Lil' Ones
by Jlbrew28
Summary: In this "Little" Verse AU: JD is seven, Vin is eight, and Ezra is nine. They all end up in Four Corners in the care of Chris Larabee, who is the town's Sheriff. Warning: Spanking of minors.
1. The Orphan Train

**Magnificent Seven**

"**Lil' Ones"**

**Summary****: In this Old West Alternate Universe: JD Dunne is seven, Vin Tanner is eight, and Ezra Standish is nine. All three wind up in Four Corners and all three end up in the care of Chris Larabee, who is the town's sheriff. Buck Wilmington is his deputy, Josiah Sanchez is the town's preacher, and Nathan Jackson is the town's doctor.**

**Author's Note:** **I have recently found the M7 "little" universe and absolutely loved it, for the most part. I especially loved the "little" Ezra stories. I must admit I have not actually seen the show, but seeing as how this **_**is **_**an AU story that wouldn't (or shouldn't, anyway) matter. I know enough about the characters to make it work–I hope… This will be a sort of blending of the "Little Britches" universe and the "Little Ezra" universe—with my own twist, of course ;) If you like "kid fics" I'd suggest reading these. They are great.**

**Warning:**** Spanking of minors. (Naturally, since this **_**is**_** the Old West.)**

_**Disclaimer:**_ **I don't own these characters. I just wrote this story for fun. Enjoy.**

**Chapter 1: The Orphan Train**

The small town of Four Corners was an unassuming sort of place, as Western towns went anyway, but then again not many towns could boast it had its own set of protectors.

For Four Corners, these protectors consisted of four men: Sheriff Chris Larabee, Deputy Buck Wilmington, Pastor Josiah Sanchez, and Dr. Nathan Jackson. While the first two were obvious protectors, given their lawmen status, the other two were honorary deputies and had helped take down more than one outlaw.

Sanchez may be a man of the cloth now, but he hadn't always been. He believed that in order to put his dark past behind him he would use the skills he had acquired in his life to help the people of that town—even if that meant taking up arms and getting involved in a shoot out if necessary. He always made sure he was behind the pulpit come Sunday morning with a clean conscious and ready to serve his flock's needs as the Man of God he was.

Jackson was a former slave who had actually begun acquiring his medical knowledge during the Civil War when he served the union as a medic in exchange for his freedom. Upon the war's completion one of the wealthier soldiers whose life head saved had paid for his formal education and admission into the medical community. He now served Four Corners as her medico, but he—like Pastor Sanchez—believed that if it was necessary to take up arms to defend his patients he would gladly do so. He was a good enough shot and doctor to know how _not_ to kill but merely wound and disarm.

Together, the four men served the people of Four Corners valiantly and all were respected and well liked…at least by those they protected. They had many enemies among the out laws they either chased off or help apprehend.

On this particular spring morning, when our story begins, Sheriff Larabee was making his way to the church to visit with Pastor Sanchez. He found the older man in the act of rearranging the church pews. "Mornin', Brother Jo," he greeted his friend, "what's all this about?"

"Brother Jo" was Josiah's nickname, at least to his three friends and fellow protectors, and one that always brought a smile to his face. "Good morning, Brother Chris," he returned the greeting. "I'm getting the church set up for the orphans."

Chris raised an eyebrow. "Orphans?" he asked, puzzled.

"Brother Buck didn't tell you?" Josiah asked, confused. "I told him to remind you about it last night when you got in…" He was referring to the fact that Chris had been away for a couple of days tracking down a wanted fugitive and had only returned the night before.

"Oh," Chris said, blushing. "Well, see, when I got in Buck was more or less…indisposed…"

"You mean he was with one of his numerous ladies," Josiah clarified, chuckling.

Buck Wilmington was a big hearted man who loved two things: good whisky and good women. He was a self proclaimed ladies man and women did seem to find him charming.

"Uh, yeah," Chris said, smiling, "so I kinda didn't see him. What's this about orphans?"

"There's an orphan train coming in," Josiah explained. "There going to stay here at the church for a few days while Miss Travis and I find them homes."

"How many are there?" Chris asked, curious. He certainly didn't want a horde of children to suddenly descend upon their town…that would almost be as bad a horde of outlaws. Not that he didn't like kids, he'd been a father once upon a time before his wife and son had been killed, but one Sheriff versus a heap of kids didn't exactly sound like good odds to him.

"Well, there were more than hundred that boarded the train back east," Josiah explained, "but they've been dropping a few at specific towns where they know families can be found. Ours was is the last on the list, and the Sister traveling as their chaperone wired from the last town to say they would be arriving this afternoon. She also said there were about five—two ten year olds, one seven year old, and two five year olds. The ten year olds are twin boys and the five year olds are twin girls."

Chris nodded, a bit relieved. That didn't sound so bad. Nothing Josiah couldn't handle. "You sure you'll be able to find homes for them?" he asked, concerned.

Josiah nodded. "I've already spoken to a few," he explained, "and the Davis' want to take the five year old girls—they already have a boy, as you know—and the Millers' want the boys."

"Two ten year old boys can be quite the handful," Chris commented, quietly.

Adam, his son, had been and he'd only been five years old at the time of his death. A moment of grief pressed upon his heart at the thought of his son, but he quickly pushed it aside.

Josiah nodded. "Bob believes they'll be a help to him," he explained Mr. Miller's reasons for taking the two twins, "but they'll still be young enough to 'raise up right' as Martha put it." He chuckled and Chris joined him. Martha Miller was a good natured lady, if a bit brash and blunt at times.

"What about the seven year old?" he asked the preacher, curiously.

Josiah sighed. "He's proving a bit of a problem," he explained. "So far, neither Mary nor I have had any luck finding a family willing to take him permanently."

Mary Travis was the daughter of Judge Orin Travis, who had initially recruited Chris and the others to protect the town from a band of cut throats. It was after this successful mission that the people elected him Sheriff and he deputized his best friend, Buck Wimington.

"Can't Mary and the judge take him?" Chris asked. "I mean, this kid and Billy are about the same age, ain't they?" Billy was Mary's son, who was away at school.

"Yes," the preacher answered, "but you know Orin." He shrugged, having said all that needed to be said.

Chris nodded, understanding. "What are you going to do?" he asked next, helping him move the last of the pews out of the way.

"Well," Josiah said, "for tonight they're going to be sleeping here until the Millers and the Davis family can come get the ones they want. As far as young Mr. Dunne, we'll just have to see."

"Dunne?" Chris asked, grinning. "That the kid's name?"

Josiah nodded. "Yes," he said, looking at a piece of paper he had in his vest pocket. "John Daniel Dunne. Age seven. Mother died of scarlet fever about six months ago. Been in the care of East Side Orphanage ever since."

"John Daniel," Chris said, whistling. "Lord, what a name!"

Josiah chuckled. "I believe he prefers to go by JD," he explained, "at least according to Sister Agnes he does."

Chris nodded. "Well, Brother Jo," he said, "looks like you got everything ready here…need any further help?"

"No, but thanks," Josiah said. "If you happen to see Nathan, could you ask him to stop by. I believe both the Millers and the Davises want the children to get check ups before they take custody of them."

Chris nodded. "Will do," he said, and turned to head out of the church. "Good luck with young JD. Me and Buck'll be at the jail if you all need us." He headed out back in the direction of the town's jailhouse where his deputy was waiting for him.

Josiah smiled as he watched his friends retreating back. "Oh, Brother Chris," he said, an idea suddenly forming in his brain, "I do believe the Lord has just given me the answer to my prayers."

He chuckled as he finished putting out the cots for the children to sleep on. Mary was going to be bringing milk and cookies over closer to the time of the children's arrival so there. Now all that was needed was for the train to come.

_Oh yes, Chris, _Josiah thought, _I do believe you and young JD are going to be just perfect for each other!_

Now, all he had to do, was convince a certain hard headed Sheriff of that fact…

The train pulled into the station right on time, but it still has seemed like too long of a trip for the five children on board, especially a certain dark haired seven year old who appeared to have ants in his pants.

"John Daniel," Sister Agnes, the nun who had escorted the children on their journey from the east, spoke exasperated at the youngsters fidgeting, "if you would kindly stop squirming the train will be stopping any moment and we will be able to exit. 'Patience' is a virtue, child, and one you need to learn."

JD hated being called "John Daniel" but had heard it enough in the past to know that when someone said it, it meant that he was getting close or was already in trouble. "Yes, Ma'am," he told the nun respectfully. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, that wouldn't have been polite at all and his Mama had taught him to be polite to adults.

_Sure wish this dang train would stop already, _he grumbled to himself as he gazed out the window of the compartment he shared with the other orphans and their escort, _I hate being cooped up!_

His mama used to call him her young colt, because she said he was a restless as a young horse at times. JD loved horsed, and the one good thing about his coming out West was that he might—just might—get one of his very own. That was of course if he was given to a nice family and that nice family has horses.

_If they ain't nice, _he thought, _I ain't stayin'. I'll go live with the Injuns!_

He had thought about that very seriously on the long trip, about what he would do if either a family couldn't be found for him or the one he was placed with wasn't 'as nice as Mama'. He contemplated heading south to Mexico, North to the Dakotas, or even further West to Californy to hunt for gold. He ultimately decided that all three of these would entail even longer trips than this one had, so he had finally decided to go and live with the Indians that were reported to live near by.

_Injuns got plenty a horses, _JD thought to himself, _they'll let me have one a my own!_

The train whistling, the signal that they were stopping, sounded and the ants returned. He couldn't wait to get off this stinkin' train. Besides, he had to GO and GO real bad!

Once the train had stopped, Sister Agnes stood up and instructed, "All right children, if anyone needs to use the "convience" go now." JD, not surprising, was the first one out the compartment door. One of the twin girls and one of the twin boys followed him.

Once they had concluded their business, the gathered up their meager belongings and headed off the train.

"Sister Agnes," a deep male voice sounded behind them.

The Sister turned and so did the children. They found themselves staring at a tall man of about forty with brown hair going gray and a bushy salt-n-pepper mustache. "Pastor Sanchez?" Sister Agnes asked, confirming his identity.

He nodded. "Yes, Sister," he said, "that would be me, and these must be the lil' ones." He gazed down at the five children.

The two sets of twins didn't meet his eyes, but JD stared up at him boldly. "Howdy, Mister," he said, since no one else was polite (or brave enough) to speak up, "I'm JD Dunne. Nice to meet'cha!" He held out his hand for the man to shake.

Josiah Sanchez chuckled, reaching out to shake the bold little boy's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you too, JD," he said, this only confirming the idea he had in his head.

_Oh, Brother Chris, are you going to have your hands full!_

"Welcome to Four Corners."

TBC…

(Please, review and let me know what you .)


	2. Goin' to the Injuns

**Magnificent Seven**

"**Lil' Ones"**

**Summary****: In this Old West Alternate Universe: JD Dunne is seven, Vin Tanner is eight, and Ezra Standish is nine. All three wind up in Four Corners and all three end up in the care of Chris Larabee, who is the town's sheriff. Buck Wilmington is his deputy, Josiah Sanchez is the town's preacher, and Nathan Jackson is the town's doctor.**

**Author's Note:** **I have recently found the M7 "little" universe and absolutely loved it, for the most part. I especially loved the "little" Ezra stories. I must admit I have not actually seen the show, but seeing as how this **_**is **_**an AU story that wouldn't (or shouldn't, anyway) matter. I know enough about the characters to make it work–I hope… This will be a sort of blending of the "Little Britches" universe and the "Little Ezra" universe—with my own twist, of course ;) If you like "kid fics" I'd suggest reading these. They are great.**

**Warning:**** Spanking of minors. (Naturally, since this **_**is**_** the Old West.)**

_**Disclaimer:**_ **I don't own these characters. I just wrote this story for fun. Enjoy.**

**Chapter 2: Goin' to the Injuns**

Pastor Josiah Sanchez seemed like a right enough "feller" to JD. He had helped them get from the train station to the church where they'd met Miz Mary Travis and her father, Judge Orin Travis. JD wasn't too sure about him, but he certainly couldn't dislike a lady who made such great cookies!

He ate most of them himself, seeing as how the twins only ate one apiece. He couldn't quite understand what was wrong with them. Sure, they were orphans but so was he and he wasn't all gloomy and silent.

He missed his mama like crazy, no mistake about that, and he was very sad that she had to go up to Heaven but she had always said that a person should see the bright things things in life, not dwell on the things that hurt you. So, that was what he was going to do.

"These sure are good cookies, Miz Travis," he told Mary, after finishing his fourth one.

The pretty lady laughed. "I can see that, Master Dunne," she told him, teasing, "perhaps this will help with that chocolate ring around your mouth." She handed him a napkin.

JD blushed, accepting it and wiping his mouth. He hadn't meant to "make a pig of his self" like his mama used to say he did when he ate and ate, but he'd been hungry and Miz Mary's cookies _were_ very good.

"Thank ya, Ma'am," he told her, politely.

Mary smiled at the dark haired little urchin. "Your quite welcome, JD," she said, "why don't you finish the rest of your milk while I talk to Josiah a moment."

"Okay," JD said, thinking this sounded all right to him.

Mary got up and moved to talk to Josiah. She had thought she'd moved far enough away that the little boy wouldn't be able to overhear them, but she didn't realize just how sharp JD's ears were…especially when he strained to hear what was being said around him.

"He's such a sweet little boy," Mary was saying to Josiah.

"Aye, Sister Mary," Josiah said, agreeing, "he is at that."

Mary sighed. "It such a shame the judge won't let him stay with us," she said, sendning a meaningful look towards her father—who was busy talking quietly to Sister Agnes about the kids' cases and their background.

Josiah patted her own the arm. "It's quite all right, Mary," he said, "we'll find him a home."

JD's eyes widened at that. They hadn't found him a home yet! Did that mean he was going to have to go back on the train with Sister Agnes!?

"Do you have anyone new in mind that we hadn't thought of?" Mary asked Josiah, curiously. There was an unusual twinkle in pastor's eyes she recognized.

"Actually, I do," he told her, smirking. He then bent down and whispered something in her ear.

Even from across the room, JD heard her gasp. "You can't be serious," she whispered sharply to the pastor.

Josiah shrugged. "Yes, I am," he said, quietly.

Mary shook her head. "I agree with you that it would be a good thing for both of them," she said, "but given his temper and tendency to melancholy do you really think it's a good idea."

"I believe this is the Lord's Will, Mary," Josiah told her, seriously, "and after all, we must all follow His Will, do we not?"

"That we do, Pastor," Mary said, crossing her arms over her chest, "but I hope you can convince Chris of that."

Josiah chuckled. "The Lord will make a way," he said, his eyes twinkling again. "You'll see."

JD had heard enough. So, they hadn't found him a family yet and the person they were thinking of sticking him with probably didn't sound like someone who'd want him. Mary's comment about his 'temper' had been enough to decide the little boy.

_I'm goin' to the Injuns, _he thought. _Tonight!_

After that, Doc Nate came to have a look at them. Each of them was in perfect health, if a bit scrawny for their ages.

"But a few good home cooked meals," the doc had said, smiling, "will take care of that better than any medicine I can give 'em."

After that, they kids were all sleepy so they were allowed to lay down and rest. JD _did_ sleep, after all he was going to need his rest for tonight.

When night fell, Sister Agnes had been comfortably put up at the boarding house while Pastor Josiah stayed with them.

JD had been awake for some time when he finally heard the deep masculine snores that couldn't have come from either of the ten year olds. Quietly getting up off his cot, he tip toed over to pew Pastor Jo had been laying on. Sure enough, the mustached preacher was snoring 'logs' and was out like a light.

Now was the time to make his escape.

Grabbing up his few belongings, he quickly and quietly left the church. Uncertain in which direction he was supposed to go to actually find the "Injuns" he was intending to live with, he just started heading West.

He was soon out of sight of the town, and he looked back and smiled.

JD Dunne was on his very first adventure…

_John Daniel Dunne,_ Sheriff Chris Larabee growled to himself. _I should have known that name meant trouble with a capital T!_

"Where do you reckon the lil' Britches will go?" Buck asked him, curious.

Chris shrugged. "I have no idea," he said, "and I wish that Indian bounty hunter would stroll into town. He's the best damn tracker I've ever seen. He'd be able to sniff out the little brat."

He was probably sounding a little harsher than he meant to be, but it was late at night, he was cold, hungry, and down right irritable. Not only were he and Buck out in the middle of nowhere searching, but more than most of the men in town were, too. All because one seven year old boy got ants in his pants and decided to take off.

"C'mon, Chris," Buck told him, grinning. "He's just a little boy."

"A little boy in need of a good switchin'," Chris growled back. "Runnin' off in the middle of the night, scarin' everybody to death. If I'd done something like that at seven, my pa would have strapped my hide clean off!"

Buck chuckled. "My ma would have, too," he told him, "but we don't really know _why_ he's runnin' away, remember?"

Chris snorted. "I don't give a damn about his reasons, Buck," he told his friend. "When we find him he's gonna get _at least_ a major talkin' to, you can be sure of that, before we haul his little butt back into town!"

_If I didn't know any better, Pard, _Buck thought to himself, _I'd say you were a might worried about the kid._

He hadn't seen Chris this riled up, over something like this anyway, in quite awhile and he'd known Chris Larabee for a long time. They had been like brothers for years now, and it was he who had dragged the other man's ass out of a bottle when his wife and son were brutally murdered in a fire.

"C'mon," Chris told him, "let's get moving. The little brat's got a good three hours lead on us!"

Buck chuckled. _Yep, definitely worried._

He clucked the reins of his horse and headed after his best friend.

TBC…

(AN—All right, for those of you who expressed concerns about my finishing my nineteen—yes I'm well aware of the number—unfinished stories I intend to finish each and every one of them; in fact, about three of them are only one or two chapters away from being complete. So, please, be patient. For those of you who wanted to know how to find the M7 "little" stories, simply go to Google and type in "Magnificent Seven "Lil Britches" or "Little Ezra" stories and it should come right up. I hope you are enjoying the fic so far, and please keep up the reviews. Thanks.)


	3. Lil' Britches

**Magnificent Seven**

"**Lil' Ones"**

**Summary****: In this Old West Alternate Universe: JD Dunne is seven, Vin Tanner is eight, and Ezra Standish is nine. All three wind up in Four Corners and all three end up in the care of Chris Larabee, who is the town's sheriff. Buck Wilmington is his deputy, Josiah Sanchez is the town's preacher, and Nathan Jackson is the town's doctor.**

**Author's Note:** **I have recently found the M7 "little" universe and absolutely loved it, for the most part. I especially loved the "little" Ezra stories. I must admit I have not actually seen the show, but seeing as how this **_**is **_**an AU story that wouldn't (or shouldn't, anyway) matter. I know enough about the characters to make it work–I hope… This will be a sort of blending of the "Little Britches" universe and the "Little Ezra" universe—with my own twist, of course ;) If you like "kid fics" I'd suggest reading these. They are great.**

**Warning:**** Spanking of minors. (Naturally, since this **_**is**_** the Old West.)**

_**Disclaimer:**_ **I don't own these characters. I just wrote this story for fun. Enjoy.**

**Chapter 3: Lil' Britches**

Okay, so heading out in the middle of the night wasn't such a good idea. Even though the full moon shown high over head to light his way, JD was tired, hungry, and just a bit scared.

He'd been walking for hours, and hadn't seen any sign of any "Injuns" yet.

_They gotta be here somewhere,_ he thought wearily to himself, _they just gotta!_

He felt a few tears well up in his eyes, but he wasn't about to break down like a baby and bawl his eyes out. He was a big boy now, his mama had said so and he wasn't about to make a liar outta her with her up in Heaven with the Good Lord; that just wasn't right.

So, he scrubbed at his tired eyes with his dirty fists. If there was one thing he hadn't counted on as he made his way out of town earlier, it was all the rocks. Despite the good lighting, he had tripped over more rocks and landed in the dirt more times than he thought ever possible. It didn't help that his tiredness only added to this clumsiness.

_Gotta keep movin',_ he told himself, _gotta find the Injuns. I just gotta!_

Unfortunately, or rather possibly fortunately, he was _so_ tired and _so_ busy keeping an eye on making his right foot step in front of his left foot that he didn't hear the horses approach, so that when a rather large hand grabbed a hold of him and hauled him off his feet it scared him plum out of what few wits he had left.

"Got'cha," a deep, male, voice said, sounding amused. "Hey, Chris, I found Lil' Britches!"

JD didn't hear that last, however, he was too busy trying to fight his way out of whomever this man was hold. He heard more than a few stories about bandits and robbers in the West and while he knew he didn't have anything worth stealing, he'd also heard the whispers of "slave traders". He certainly didn't want to end up as someone's "pet boy".

"Whoa there, Lil'Britches," the deep voice of the man who had a hold of him said, "take it easy. I ain't gonna hurt'cha!"

Not believing him, JD continued to struggle and squirm. _I ain't gonna go down without a fight, _he thought kicking out with his feet. When his foot actually connected with man's gut, they were both surprised.

Dropped to the ground, momentarily stunned, it took the boy a moment to get back to his feet. He was about to make a run for it, when another male voice growled out, "John Daniel Dunne! Don't you take one more step."

Eyes wide, JD spun around to find himself facing a tall imposing figure with his arms crossed over his chest. "H-How do ya know my name!?" he squeaked out, gulping.

The imposing figure bent down, kneeling so that he was at his level. Even by the dim light of the moon, JD could see his deep blue eyes—which currently were hard as steel—and they were gazing right into his own brown ones.

"I'm Chris Larabee," the man told him, speaking firmly, "the Sheriff of Four Corners and the man you just kicked for no good reason is my deputy, Buck Wilmington."

JD's eyes widened even more. "The Sheriff!' he squeaked out. "I-I didn't steal nothin'! I swear!"

Chris resisted the urge to roll his eyes, although he did hear Buck chuckle from where he still sat on his horse. "Course you didn't," he told the boy, "that ain't why were out here. We were lookin' for you."

"For me?" JD asked. "Why? I ain't no outlaw!"

_That's a matter of opinion, _Chris thought wryly. "No, ya ain't," he agreed out loud, "but yer are a kid and kids don't need to be wanderin' round out here—especially at night—all by their lonesome. We're gonna take ya back into town."

JD's fear quickly turned into indignantly. "No," he exclaimed, firmly. "I ain't goin' back! I'm goin' to the Injuns!"

Chris raised an eye at the boy. _Kid's got spirit, I'll give him that, but that mouth is gonna get him into a heap of trouble!_

"The Injuns around these parts, Lil' Britches," Buck told the kid, smiling, "are sooner to scalp ya than look at ya. Believe me, yer a lot safer with me and Chris than them."

JD jaw set firmly and he glared at the sheriff who was still kneeling down. "I ain't goin' back," he said. "I ain't got no reason to."

Chris had had enough. "Oh yes you are," he growled, lifting the boy into his arms, "and yer goin' back right now."

This was the second time, he'd been picked up without his permission and JD didn't appreciate it one little bit. Just as had with Buck, he began to struggle and squirm. "Let me go," he growled at the sheriff, "let me go!"

Chris grunted when the kid managed to get a pretty good blow to his stomach, earning a chuckle from his partner. Glaring at Buck, he sat the kid down and turned him around. He then delivered a sharp smack to his behind.

JD wasn't expecting a smack, not from a sheriff anyway, and was stunned into stillness as he was turned back around to face the man.

"Now then," Chris told him, sternly, "you can either be still and get up on the horse, _or_ I can turn you across my knee for a spankin' and you'll still be getting' on the horse—only you'll have a sore rear to ride back into town on. One way or the other, lil' britches, you _are_ going back. So, what's it going to be?" He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the boy.

JD reached back to rub the sting out of the one swat he'd received. He had to admit the man had a hard hand and he didn't want any more where that one came from, but he also didn't want to go back into town, either.

"No body wants me," he said, quietly. "I don't want t go back."

Chris sighed. So, that was it. Mary had mentioned she was afraid that the kid had overheard her and Josiah talking about not finding him a home, yet, and it seemed she was right. The kid had run because he was afraid he would be put back on the orphan train.

He knelt down again, this time placing a gentler hand on the boy's shoulders. "JD," he said, speaking softly, "I know it ain't easy for ya, with losin' yer ma and havin' to come out here, but I promise Josiah and Miz Mary will do everything they can to find you a good home."

Tear welled up in his eyes again, and like before he scrubbed them away. "They said they couldn't find no body," he told the man, "and the Pastor has someone in mind that didn't sound real nice. Injuns have horses, they'd let me have one. Wouldn't they?"

Chris smiled. "Do you like horses?" he asked the kid.

JD nodded. "Yes, sir," he said, seriously, "I like them a lot."

"So do I," he told him, standing back up. He picked up the boy again, and this time the lad didn't fight him.

_Thank goodness, _he thought as he lifted the boy and put him in front of his saddle and then climbed up, too. Apparently all the fight had left him as the weariness of his little body had finally caught up with him.

"If you could have yer own horse, JD?" he asked the boy, trying to keep him preoccupied so that they could get him back into town.

"I like all kinds," the boy told him, as they began to make their way back toward Four Corners, "but I'd _really_ like a black one with a white star and white socks."

Chris smiled. He actually had a colt that matched that description back at his ranch.

Buck rode closer. "The kid's plum tuckered out, Chris," he whispered, nodding at the boy's dropping dark head.

Chris nodded. "I know," he whispered back, "which is why I'm gonna take him to the ranch for the rest of tonight."

"You are?" Buck asked, a bit surprised.

Chris nodded. "Yep," he said, seriously. "It's closer than town and right now this kid needs a hot bath, a warm meal, and good bed to sleep in. You go ahead and ride in to let the others know we found him and where he's at. Send Nathan and Josiah out first thing in the morning. Okay?"

Buck nodded, smiling. "You got it, Pard," he said, "but are you sure? I mean, I could take him to the ranch…"

Chris snorted. "Yeah right, Buck," he said. "He'd have you wrapped around his little finger so fast you'd let him do whatever he wanted to do."

Buck huffed. "That ain't true," he said, although he did find the lil' one adorable.

"Uh huh," Chris said, looking disbelieving. "I'll be fine with him for one night, Buck. Besides, of the two of us, I've actually been a father to a small boy. I know what to do."

Buck nodded, knowing he couldn't ague with that. "All right," he said, agreeing with the plan. "I'll send Josiah and Nate out first thing in the mornin'."

Chris nodded. "Good," he said, and then turned his horse in the direction of his ranch to gallop off.

Buck chuckled. "Good luck, Pard," he spoke to his friend's retreating back. "With Lil' Britches, I think yer gonna need it."

Still laughing, he turned kicked his heels and sent his horse heading for town. Something told him, Josiah and Mary were gonna be mighty glad of this turn of events.

If truth be told, so was he. He had a feeling that little boy was going to be the best thing for his best friend.

_I wonder if the little feller has a good hat? Ole Uncle Buck might just have to buy him one._

TBC…


	4. Gettin' Attached

**Magnificent Seven**

"**Lil' Ones"**

**Summary****: In this Old West Alternate Universe: JD Dunne is seven, Vin Tanner is eight, and Ezra Standish is nine. All three wind up in Four Corners and all three end up in the care of Chris Larabee, who is the town's sheriff. Buck Wilmington is his deputy, Josiah Sanchez is the town's preacher, and Nathan Jackson is the town's doctor.**

**Author's Note:** **I have recently found the M7 "little" universe and absolutely loved it, for the most part. I especially loved the "little" Ezra stories. I must admit I have not actually seen the show, but seeing as how this **_**is **_**an AU story that wouldn't (or shouldn't, anyway) matter. I know enough about the characters to make it work–I hope… This will be a sort of blending of the "Little Britches" universe and the "Little Ezra" universe—with my own twist, of course ;) If you like "kid fics" I'd suggest reading these. They are great.**

**Warning:**** Spanking of minors. (Naturally, since this **_**is**_** the Old West.)**

_**Disclaimer:**_ **I don't own these characters. I just wrote this story for fun. Enjoy.**

**Chapter 4: Getting Attached **

It was the sensation of warmth that pulled JD from the drowsy half-slumber he'd been in.

Opening his eyes, he found himself in a large bed. The bed was in a room of a house, it appeared, and a nice warm house at that.

Getting up, he strolled to the door and stepped out into the outer room. He found Sheriff Chris Larabee pouring a bucket of steaming hot water into a metal tub sitting in the middle of a sitting room beside a roaring fire place. Despite the fact Winter had past, the nights were still downright cold and so the heat of the fire felt wonderful.

"Well now," Chris said, smiling at the little boy, "I was just about to come get'cha. The bath is good and hot, so go ahead and hop on in while I finish supper."

JD was confused. "Where are we, mister?" he asked, curiously. "I thought you were taking me back to town."

"You'll be going back in the mornin'," Chris assured him, "but for tonight we're stayin' at my ranch."

"You have a ranch?" JD asked, his eyes wide. "Do ya have horses?"

Chris smiled. "Yep," he said, "I sure do. Maybe in the mornin' I'll introduce ya to a couple of 'em. Now, you go ahead and hop on in the tub and I'll get us some grub."

JD eyed the tub of hot water dubiously. He looked down at his dirt stained hands. They didn't look that bad to him. "I ain't really that dirty, Mister," he said, "so we can just skip the bath and get to supper. Okay?"

Chris smirked, raising an eyebrow at him. He seemed to remember pulling this same ploy with his mother once, when he'd been seven. He didn't think he had the heart to just dump the kid into the tub the way his mother had him, or take a switch to his naked behind the way Sarah used to do Adam when he was being stubborn, so he would try a different ploy.

"That's fine," he said, grinning. "You don't have to take a bath…"

JD smiled brightly at the sound of that.

"…but if you don't there won't be any supper," Chris finished, biting the inside of his cheek as the boy's smile dropped into a frown. _Got'cha!_

JD crossed his arms. "That ain't fair, Mister," he grumbled. "I'm a growin' boy and my mama always said a growin' boy needs to eat."

"She did, did she?" Chris asked, smiling. "Did your mama ever let you at the table covered in dirt from head to toe?"

JD sighed. "No, sir," he said, knowing he had to be honest, "she didn't."

Chris nodded. "Well then," he said, "neither will I. You want to eat, you'll hop in the tub and scrub 'til you shine."

JD sighed, but then smiled. "Can't I jus wash my hands?" he asked, holding up the grubby looking appendages. "I mean, ya don't eat with the rest of your body—just yer hands. I'll make sure my hands are _real_ clean. I promise."

Chris chuckled. He had the give the boy credit, he was pretty good. This was exactly why he'd brought the boy here and not Buck. At that pleading look, his deputy would have melted like heated butter and the boy wouldn't have even washed his hands before getting to eat.

"Nope," he said, firmly. "You either wash all of you or you don't eat. So, what's it going to be, Lil' Britches?"

JD sighed, knowing he'd been beat. "All right," he said, "I'll take the dang bath."

"I thought you would," Chris told him. "You want some help?"

JD blushed and shook his head, firmly. "No, Sir," he said, "I'm a big boy. I can do it myself."

Chris nodded, not wanting to upset the boy. "All right," he said, "go ahead." He gestured to the tub.

"You just gonna stand there and watch?" JD asked, blushing.

"Yep," Chris told him. "Least 'til you get in the tub, and then I'm gonna see about supper."

"Don't you trust me?" JD asked, smiling his most innocent smile.

Chris resisted smiling. "Nope," he told him, bluntly. "Go on."

Scowling, JD began taking off his dirty clothes. Grumbling the entire time, he finally finished stripping and hopped in the tub. As he sank in to sit down, he had to admit the warm water felt really nice. They'd only be allowed cold showers along with way of the journey.

Chris nodded, satisfied the boy would stay put, he headed into the kitchen to rustle them up some supper. It had been awhile since he or Buck had stayed at the ranch—their duties in town usually kept both of them away—so there wasn't too much to choose from that he could cook decently.

He finally settled on scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon. He had just finished scrambling the eggs, when he heard JD shout from the living room.

"Mister Sheriff," the boy called, "I'm ready to get out now!"

Dishing the eggs onto plates that already contained bacon and toast, he plopped the plates onto the table and hurried back out to the sittin' room. He found JD already standing up in the tub.

"Hold up there, lil'Britches," he told the boy, grabbing a towel he'd sat on a chair earlier.

The boy crossed his arms. "I ain't wearing britches," he reminded him, grinning.

Chris chuckled. "Would you prefer "Scrawny Tail"? he asked, wrapping the boy up and lifting him out of the tub to dry off.

JD shook his head. "No," he said, wrinkling his nose.

"Then 'Lil'Britches' it is then," the sheriff said, reaching for the night shirt he'd pulled from a trunk with Adam's things in it. It would be a little short on the seven year old, as it was made for a five year old, but it would do for one night at least.

He pulled the nightshirt over the boy's head and examined him closely. He turned his head this way and that to make sure he'd cleaned behind his ears. "You'll do," he said, approvingly.

"Does that mean I can have supper now, Mister?" JD asked, hopefully.

"It sure does, Lil'Britches," Chris said, picking the boy up, "and you don't have to keep callin' me "Mister" or "Mister Sheriff". You can just call me Chris, if you want as long as yer being respectful."

JD nodded. "Okay, Mister Chris," he said.

Chris sighed, and carried the boy into the kitchen. "I hope you like eggs, bacon, and toast," he said, "because that was the only thing I could find for supper."

The moment he'd smelled the food, JD's mouth began to water. "May I go head and start eating?" he asked, licking his lips.

Chris chuckled. He had forgotten how hungry young boys could be. "Yeah," he said, "dig in."

So, the boy did and he followed soon afterward.

Once they were finished, his belly now wonderfully full, JD let out an all mighty yawn that had Chris smiling. "Now that you've had your bath and we've seen to yer belly," he said, "I think it's time for bed."

JD normally would have fought to stay up, but he was just too tired tonight. "All right," he said, getting out of his chair. "Am I gonna have to sleep in the barn?"

Chris chuckled at that. "No, Lil'Britches," he told him, "yer gonna sleep in the house—in that bedroom you were in earlier. C'mon."

JD allowed the sheriff to guide him back into the bedroom he'd first found himself in and pulled the covers back. He then let himself be lifted and put into the bed, the covers pulled tightly up to his chin.

Despite the warmth and comfort of the house and the room, a momentary childish bout of fear descended over the young boy. "Will you be close by?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound like some kind of scare-baby or something.

Chris nodded. "I'm gonna stay right here 'til yer fast asleep, JD," he promised the boy. "How about I read you a story, huh?"

"Can it be about horses?" JD asked, hopefully.

"Sure," Chris said, going over to the small book case and pulling the exact book he'd had in mind to read to the boy. "This here book is called _Black Beauty_ and it's about a horse over there in England. Want to hear about it?"

JD nodded. "Yes, Mister Chris," he said, "please?"

Chris chuckled, and then began to read. He had just finished the first chapter when he glanced up and saw that the little boy was fast asleep. Putting the book on the bedside table, he blew out the lamp and then bent forward to give the boy a kiss on the forehead.

_What are you going?_ He asked himself, realizing what he was doing.

_The boy's going back to town in the morning. Don't get attached!_

The this troubling thought didn't keep him from finishing the familiar nightly ritual that he'd done with his son countless times in the past. The little boy laying there just wanted to be loved and kept safe. He could provide the second, but he wasn't too sure about the first.

Making his way to his own room, he prepared for bed.

_Don't get attached,_ he told himself as he blew out his lamp and laid back.

As he began to drift off to sleep, he knew it would do no good.

He was already attached…

The next morning, after eating a breakfast of warm oatmeal with some milk and cinnamon, Chris decided to keep JD occupied while they were waiting for Josiah and Nathan to arrive by showing him around the ranch. The boy loved it all, but Chris thought he was going to literally fly away with excitement when they finally got around to the horses.

"They're great, Mister Chris," the horse-crazed seven year exclaimed, "and look, they've got babies!" He pointed to where several colts were nursing from their mothers.

Chris chuckled, feeling the shadow of his long held grief drift further away from him. It had been too long since he just enjoyed hearing the sound of a child's excitement or laughter. JD had plenty of both in spades.

"Yep, they do," he said, "and lookee over there." He pointed to the small black colt that had a perfect white patch like a star in the center of his forehead and four white "socks" on his lower legs.

JD gasped at the sight of him. "It's him," he said, "it's the horse I've always wanted!"

Chris smiled even more and he bent down. "Would you really like to have him?" he asked the boy, gently.

JD nodded, his head going up and down so hard that it was a wonder he didn't hurt himself. "Oh yes, Mister Chris," he said, "may I, please!? I'll pay you…somehow!"

Chris patted his shoulder. "I'll tell you what," he said, "why don't I show you how to muck out the barn. You can do that for me and the colt is yours. Does that sound fair?"

JD nodded enthusiastically again. "Oh, yes Sir," he said, "more-n-fair!"

Chris chuckled. "Great," he said, nodding his head toward the barn, "c'mon."

After showing the lad what to do, he stepped back and watched him get to it. Given the kid's small size, he would more than likely miss some rather large piles of manure, but that was all right. He (Chris) could come back tonight after the boy was asleep and finish it up.

_He's going back to town soon, _he reminded himself.

_No, he's not._

With those three words, he realized what he intended to do. Whether he had wanted this before last night or not, he was determined to give this little boy a home and family. He had no one, the kid had no one, so they would be something to each other.

The sound of horses alerted him to the fact that Josiah and Nathan must have arrived. "You keep workin', Lil'Britches," he told JD, "I'll be right back."

He went out to greet his friends. "Mornin'," he greeted the pastor and the doctor.

"Good morning, Brother Chris," Josiah said. "I do hope little Mister Dunne didn't run you ragged last night?"

Chris smiled. "Nope," he said, "me and Lil'Britches got on just fine."

"Where is the lad?" Nathan asked. "Any ouches need tending?"

"He might have a few after mucking out the barn," he told them, smiling, "which is what he's doing."

"Put him to work already, have you?" Josiah said, smirking.

Chris shrugged. "It won't hurt him none," he said, "and he's doin' it for a reason. I've promised him one of my colts for doing it."

"A chore for a colt?" Josiah asked, grinning. "Which one?"

Chris pointed out the little one JD had his heart on. "Have you told him that he is too small to leave his mother yet?" he asked, knowingly.

Chris shook his head. "Nope," he said, "no reason to."

"Oh," Josiah said, "then what will you do?"

"I reckon," Chris said, "that the two of them will just have to grow up side by side."

Josiah and Nathan grinned at each other.

"Does this mean," the pastor asked, "that Mary and I can stop looking for a home for young JD?"

Chris looked back toward the barn, and smiled. "Yep, Brother Jo," he said, "I reckon it does 'cuz Lil'Britches already has one. Right here."

Josiah smiled. _Lord, you do work in mysterious ways!_

"Somehow," the pastor said, his eyes twinkling. "I knew you were going to say that."

TBC…


	5. The Bounty Hunter's Boy

**Magnificent Seven**

"**Lil' Ones"**

**Summary****: In this Old West Alternate Universe: JD Dunne is seven, Vin Tanner is eight, and Ezra Standish is nine. All three wind up in Four Corners and all three end up in the care of Chris Larabee, who is the town's sheriff. Buck Wilmington is his deputy, Josiah Sanchez is the town's preacher, and Nathan Jackson is the town's doctor.**

**Author's Note:** **I have recently found the M7 "little" universe and absolutely loved it, for the most part. I especially loved the "little" Ezra stories. I must admit I have not actually seen the show, but seeing as how this **_**is **_**an AU story that wouldn't (or shouldn't, anyway) matter. I know enough about the characters to make it work–I hope… This will be a sort of blending of the "Little Britches" universe and the "Little Ezra" universe—with my own twist, of course ;) If you like "kid fics" I'd suggest reading these. They are great.**

**Warning:**** Spanking of minors. (Naturally, since this **_**is**_** the Old West.)**

_**Disclaimer:**_ **I don't own these characters. I just wrote this story for fun. Enjoy.**

**(There's mention of spanking in this chapter, but no actual spanking scene.)**

**Chapter 5: The Bounty Hunter's Boy**

"And then," JD said, excitedly, "Uncle Buck took my pole, but the fish was too big and he fell in!"

Chris chuckled, sitting behind his desk at the jailhouse, as he listened to his adopted son's tail of how Buck had ended up in the pond while taking the seven year old fishing. Buck was currently in his room at the boarding house across the street changing out of his wet clothes.

"Sounds to me Uncle Buck finally met his match," he told JD, "huh, son?"

"Yeah," the boy agreed, "he sure did, Pa!"

_Pa_.

Chris had never thought one little word like that could make his heart feel so full of love, but it did. It had been a month now since he'd agreed to take JD, and it had been a wonderful month all told.

Sure, there had been times when the boy was irritable or he was, and more than a couple of times when he'd lost his temper with the lad, but he'd always apologized afterwards and all was forgiven, but for the most part it had been a good month.

It was only last week that JD had started referring to him as "Pa".

Oddly enough, it coincided with the first time he'd had to spank the boy.

After explaining to the seven year old that he was going to stay with him, he'd gone over the rules the kid would have to follow and what breaking those rules would mean.

"Now listen sharp, Lil'Britches," he had told him, sternly, "there are three things that will get you a trip over my knee for sure and certain. That's lyin' to me, disrespectin' a grown-up, or doin' somethin' you've been told not to do. Understand?"

JD had nodded his head solemnly at the time, and promised he'd remember. Chris had expected the kid to make mistakes, and he did, but usually it was little things and all he ever had to do was scold or give him an extra chore to do. This time had been different.

Buck had gone on a trip east a couple weeks back and brought back with him a prize winning stallion, figuring he'd be perfect for breeding with a few of their mares. The animal may have been born in a stall, but it was crystal clear he had a wild spirit. He was feisty, and could be down right mean at times.

Because of this, JD had been told in no uncertain terms—by both Chris and Buck—to stay away from the animal until they got him broken in.

The boy had promised, but being as horse-crazed as he was he just couldn't resist trying to make friends with the stallion the way he had all the other horses on the ranch. Chris had thought his heart had stopped when he stepped out of the house and saw JD in the pen with the tethered stallion.

No sooner had he got within touching distance, but the mean spirited beast had reared up intending to hit the lad with his hooves. Luckily, and thankfully, the boy had been close enough that the rearing action had knocked him far enough out of range of those sharp hooves.

He had just picked himself off the ground when Chris' hand snagged the back of his collar and hauled him over the fence. "John Daniel Dunne," he'd snarled at the kid, "what the hell did you think you were doing?"

JD hadn't been able to come up with any excuse. "I just wanted to pet him," he said, tears stinging his eyes. "He seems so lonely cooped up in that dang pen!"

"He's in that pen for a reason, John Daniel," Chris exclaimed, angrily, "as you've just seen. What did both Uncle Buck and I tell you?"

JD knew he was in real trouble this time. It was the second time Chris had used his full name. "Not to get near him," he said, not meeting the man's eyes.

Chris had reached under his chin and lifted it. "So," he said, "you deliberately disobeyed us, didn't you?"

JD gulped. "Yes, Sir," he said, knowing now just how much trouble he was in.

"What did I say I'd do if you ever did that, John Daniel?" Chris asked, sternly.

Three times was the nail on the coffin, at least to JD it was. "S-Spank me," he said, quietly.

"That's right," Chris said. "C'mon, let's go to the barn." Hating himself for what he knew he was going to have to do, he had turned and headed for the barn.

JD had followed in his wake, every step making him feel more and more like a condemned man on his way to the gallows.

Once in the barn, Chris sat down on a hay stack and pulled JD close. "I didn't make those rules just to be mean, JD," he told him. "They're there to keep you safe. You could have been seriously hurt just now, or worse…" A sob struck his chest at _that_ thought, but he quickly suppressed it.

He then turned the boy over his knee and gave him a hard, thorough spanking that left the boy sobbing and pleading he'd be good from now on once it was over.

"I-I'm sorry, Pa," the little boy had sobbed into his shoulder, "I'm sorry."

Chris had stiffened at the word at first, but had returned his adopted son's embrace whole-heartedly.

"Is that all right?" JD had asked once he crying had stopped.

"Is what all right, son?" Chris had asked, puzzled.

"If I call you 'Pa'?" the boy asked, his eyes wide. "I know yer not really, but…"

Chris clamped a hand over the boy's mouth, who could be quite the chatter-box when he got on a tangent. "It's more than all right, son," he said, "I'd be right proud for you to call me that."

The boy had smiled, and so had he. However, that hadn't stopped him from sending the lad to bed early that night or giving him two extra chores to do the next morning for scaring ten years of life out of him.

"Pa?" JD's voice brought him back to the present. "You okay?"

Chris smiled, seeing Buck coming. "There's Uncle Buck," he said, standing up. "What do you say we go see Miz Inez and you can tell her all about the fish getting' the better of him?"

"Yeah," JD exclaimed, liking that idea. "Let's go." He grabbed his adopted father's hand and headed out.

"What's up?" Buck asked them, meeting them as they headed out.

"We're gonna see Miz Inez," JD told his surrogate uncle excitedly. "I'm gonna get to tell her all about our fishin' today, Uncle Buck."

Buck scowled at Chris, who just smirked. "I'm gonna get'cha for this one, Pard," he threatened, good naturally. "Just you wait."

"Sure, Buck," he said, patting him on the back. "Whatever you say."

Chuckling, the three of them started for Miz Inez's saloon when a shout for help rang out.

"Help! Help!" a frightened voice exclaimed. "Gran'father needs help!"

They turned to find a wagon speeding down the town's street towards them. A young boy dressed in deer skin was driving it. He looked to be about eight years old, and he was covered in blood. He pulled the wagon to a stop right in front of them.

"Whoa there, son," Chris exclaimed, "what's the matter?"

The boy pointed to the back of the wagon. "Gran'father's been shot," he exclaimed. "Please, you've gotta help him!"

Chris and Buck looked in the wagon. It was the Indian bounty hunter that had helped them out on a few cases before. "JD," he said, turning to his adopted son, "go get Uncle Nate!"

JD, hearing the urgency in his adopted father's voice nodded and ran to get the good doctor.

"What happened?" Chris asked the boy, who had yet to release the reigns he was gripping so hard that his knuckles were turning white.

"We were tracking a wanted man," he said, his young voice devoid of anything resembling emotion, "but he ambushed us. Gran'father was shot, and I didn't know what to do. H-He told me to get him here. He said that there was only one doc he'd trust to patch him up and he was here in Four Corners."

"Where'd you get the wagon?" Buck asked, curiously.

The boy's eyes went to their badges and gulped. "I stole it," he said, quietly. "I-I know it's wrong, but…"

"But you didn't have any choice," Chris told him. "Don't worry, Lil'Pad, we understand. How about you come down from there." He reached over and pried the lad's fingers loose from the reins.

"Pa," JD exclaimed, coming back with Nathan, "I got Uncle Nate!"

The good Dr. Jackson took one look at the situation and said, "Buck, hurry, help me get him to the clinic."

Buck looked at Chris. "Go on," he said, "I'll stay with the boys."

His deputy nodded and helped Nathan get the wounded bounty hunter to his clinic. "JD," Chris said, not wanting to scare the boy anymore than he already had been, "why don't you go see what Uncle Jo's up to. Maybe ask him to come by, if he ain't busy."

JD nodded, knowing this was a serious situation and it was probably best he do as he was told. "Sure thing, Pa," he said, and scampered off.

Once he was gone, Chris looked at the boy still sitting in the wagon. "How about you come down from there," he suggested, reaching out to lift the kid out of the wagon seat and place him on the ground.

The boy looked in the direction they had taken the Indian. "Will he be all right?" he asked, quietly.

Chris grimaced. "I don't rightly know, son," he told him, patting him on the shoulder. "Why don't we see about getting you cleaned up while we're waitin', all right?"

The boy nodded. "Okay," he said, quietly. He allowed himself to be led to the boarding house where he was given a basin of clean water and a chance to wash some of the blood off him. Chris gave him a change of clothes, some that had been given to JD by Mary but were just a little too big for the seven year old. They were just right for this boy.

"What's your name?" he asked the boy, once he'd changed.

"Vin," the boy said, "Vin Tanner."

"Vin short for something?" Chris asked, curious.

Despite his worry, the boy still wrinkled his nose in distain. "Vincent," he said, sighing.

Chris chuckled. _He don't like his full name any more than JD does._

"Got a middle name?" he asked, next. In truth, he was just trying to keep the boy from shutting down or going into shock. It had been known to happen when someone witnessed a traumatic event.

"Michael," Vin said, again wrinkling his nose. "Vincent Michael Tanner. Gran'father's been looking out for me since my folks died."

Chris nodded. "How old are you?" he asked, still trying to keep the boy talking.

"Eight," Vin told him. "Had my birthday couple of months ago. Gran'father said he was going to buy me a gun when he got the chance."

Chris raised an eyebrow at that. _Boy's too young for a gun,_ he thought to himself but didn't say so out loud. The kid was already upset enough.

"I've got a boy about your age," he told him. "His name's JD—well, John Daniel, actually—Dunne, and he don't like his name anymore than you do."

The boy nodded. "Can we go check on Gran'father now?" the boy asked.

Chris nodded. "Of course, son," he told him, "but can I ask you one more question. Is he your grandfather?"

The boy shook his head. "Nope," Vin told him, "it's just what he told me to call him. He found me after bandits killed my pap. Mam died of fever couple years back, and pap decided to head further West."

Chris nodded. _Another orphan,_ he thought as they made their way to the clinic. Buck was just coming out as they reached the door.

"Well?" Chris asked his best friend, although he could tell the news wasn't good.

Buck looked down at the little boy, and gulped. "I'm sorry, Lil' Pard," he said, "but he didn't make it."

Vin eyes widened, and then he crumpled to the ground, sobbing.

Reacting on instinct, Chris dropped to his knees and scooped up the grief-stricken child. Pulling him tightly to his chest, he let him sob while he rocked him back and forth.

"It seems," Josiah, who had just come up with JD, "I have arrived too late."

He pulled JD closer to him, hugging the little boy close.

Chris silently thanked the pastor for giving his son comfort while he saw to the needs of the little boy in his arms. Finally, at last, little Vin had cried himself out and even fallen asleep on his shoulder. To his surprise, as he stood up he saw that JD had done the same.

"C'mon, Buck," he told his deputy, "let's put these two to bed."

Heading to his room in the boarding house, Buck lay JD on one side while lay young Vin down on the other.

"What are we gonna do with him?" Buck asked him, pulling the covers around JD.

Chris just shook his head. "We'll figure something out," he told him, pulling the covers up around Vin.

He reached down and moved a stray lock of hair from the boy's forehead. The lad looked like he was in need of a good haircut.

"Well, Vin Tanner," he whispered to the slumbering child, "welcome to Four Corners."

TBC…


	6. An Odd Sort of Family

**Magnificent Seven**

"**Lil' Ones"**

**Summary****: In this Old West Alternate Universe: JD Dunne is seven, Vin Tanner is eight, and Ezra Standish is nine. All three wind up in Four Corners and all three end up in the care of Chris Larabee, who is the town's sheriff. Buck Wilmington is his deputy, Josiah Sanchez is the town's preacher, and Nathan Jackson is the town's doctor.**

**Author's Note:** **I have recently found the M7 "little" universe and absolutely loved it, for the most part. I especially loved the "little" Ezra stories. I must admit I have not actually seen the show, but seeing as how this **_**is **_**an AU story that wouldn't (or shouldn't, anyway) matter. I know enough about the characters to make it work–I hope… This will be a sort of blending of the "Little Britches" universe and the "Little Ezra" universe—with my own twist, of course ;) If you like "kid fics" I'd suggest reading these. They are great.**

**Warning:**** Spanking of minors. (Naturally, since this **_**is**_** the Old West.)**

_**Disclaimer:**_ **I don't own these characters. I just wrote this story for fun. Enjoy.**

**Chapter 6: An Odd Sort of Family**

Vincent Michael Tanner woke up in a unfamiliar bed and in an unfamiliar room. The only two things he recognized was the slightly younger boy still sleeping beside him and the man asleep in the chair beside the bed.

Last night, he had managed to bring the wounded bounty hunter that had been caring for him since his pap was killed. He'd only been with old Indian for a couple of months, but he still felt the man's loss deeply.

Sitting up, he looked first at the man sleeping in the chair. This was Sheriff Larabee, at least he thought that was the name the man had given him. Sheriff Chris Larabee.

The man who had allowed him to cry on his shoulder the night before when he'd acted just like the biggest cry baby in the world.

_I wonder why he did that? _He asked himself. In his experience, no one did anything without wanting something in return…not even his pap had been that way.

"Mornin'," a voice beside him caused him to jump and he looked to find the boy that had been sleepin' next to him was awake. "I'm JD."

"I'm Vin," Vin whispered back, "Vin Tanner."

JD smiled. "Nice to meet'cha," he said, holding out his hand.

Vin thought it was funny for two boys to shake hands, but obliged the other boy anyway.

"You hungry?" JD asked him, curiously.

His stomach rumbling answered for him. "Guess so," he said.

"Good," JD said, "that means we can get Pa up and get breakfast. C'mon." He got out of the bed.

Vin followed him, but hesitated about waking up the Sheriff. "Are you sure we should?" he asked.

"Course," JD said, "it's either him or Uncle Buck and believe me, and you don't want to wake Uncle Buck up early— especially if he's had 'company'."

Vin had no idea what the other kid was referring to but decided to trust his judgment. He _was_ hungry and he while he knew he could look after himself, he didn't want the Sheriff to be upset if he woke up to find them gone.

"All right," he said, agreeing with the plan.

JD nodded, and then reached to shake Chris awake. "Pa," he called, "Pa, wake up. Vin and I are hungry, Pa!" He shook a little harder.

Finally, the man began to stir. Opening his reddened blue eyes, having spent the good part of the night watching over the two sleeping boys, he glanced at them and grinned. "Well," he said, sleepily, "mornin'."

"Mornin', Pa," JD said, tugging on his arm, "now get up so's we can get some breakfast!"

Chris chuckled. "All right, JD," he told him, "I'm gettin' up, but I think I gotta make a stop at the outhouse before we go anywhere…and you two boys need to get dressed."

Vin blushed, realizing he needed to use the outhouse, too. _Should I ask him?_ He wasn't sure what to do.

Chris glanced at him and smiled. "Good mornin', Vin," he said, realizing he hadn't greeted the long haired boy yet, "how are you feelin' this mornin'?"

"Uh, okay, I guess," Vin said, uncomfortably, "I miss Gran'father, but…" He shrugged, not sure how to express his feelings.

Chris nodded, understanding. "It's all right to miss him," he told him, gently, "it means you cared about that you do."

Vin nodded, the pressure in his bladder intensifying slightly. "Um, Sir," he said, hesitantly.

"What is it, Vin?" Chris asked, gently. "Something wrong?"

"Well, no," Vin answered, "it's just that I've…well…" He blushed again.

Chris grinned. "You need to use the outhouse, too?" he asked, knowingly. He had that same look on his face once or twice in his life time. The boy really needed to GO.

Vin nodded. "Yes, sir," he answered, quietly.

Chris chuckled. "Not a problem, Lil' Pard," he told him. "Lil'Britches, why don't you be gettin' dressed while Vin and I make that trip outside. Okay?"

JD nodded. "Sure thing, Pa," he said. "What are we gonna get for breakfast?"

"We'll talk about it after we get back," he said. "C'mon, Vin." Wrapping an arm around the boy's shoulders, he led him downstairs and out the boarding house's back door to the outhouse. He let the boy go first and then went himself after he was done.

"Feeling better?" he asked the kid, as they made their way back up to the room.

Vin blushed. "Yes, Sir," he said, grinning back. "Thank you, Sir."

"No need to thank me, son," Chris told him, "believe me I know, "when you gotta Go you gotta Go."

Vin actually chuckled at this and it made Chris glad to hear the little boy laugh, not to mention smile for the first time.

JD was fully dressed and waiting for them when they got back. Vin changed into the clothes Chris had given him the night before and, after the man had changed his rumpled shirt for a cleaner one, they headed out of the boarding house.

"Are we gonna get breakfast from Miz Inez, Pa?" JD asked, curiously.

"I thought maybe we might go see if Uncle Jo wants some company for breakfast," Chris told him. It would also give the pastor a chance to talk to Vin about "Gran'father's" funeral arrangements.

"Yer gonna love Uncle Jo, Vin," JD said. "He's the pastor, but he ain't one of those grumpy type of pastors, he's real nice. You'll see!"

Chris rolled his eyes. In JD's eyes, a preacher that went around condemning folks and talking about "hell fire and damnation" did so because they were just plain grumpy. Despite the fact that he, Buck, and Josiah all three had tried to dissuade the boy of this notion he still held onto it firmly. Apparently, he had a run in at some time in his past with a "grumpy type of pastor".

_Knowing JD's mouth, _Chris thought, _he probably earned his own private sermon!_

They arrived at Josiah's just as the man was stepping out the door. "Mornin', Brother Jo," the sheriff greeted him.

Josiah smiled at him and at the boys. "Well, good morning," he greeted them.

"Mornin', Uncle Jo," JD greeted him. "This here is Vin, you met him last night only he probably don't remember because he was kinda upset and all…"

Chris clamped a hand down over the boy's mouth to keep from saying anything more. He rolled his eyes, which Josiah chuckled at.

Josiah knelt down so that he and Vin were looking each other in the eye. "Good morning," he greeted, holding out his hand. "I'm Josiah, Vin. It's nice to meet you."

Vin hesitantly reached out and shook the pastor's hand. "It's nice to meet you to, Sir," he said.

Josiah nodded, and stood back up. "I was just about to have my breakfast at Inez's," he said. "Would you care to join me?"

"See, Pa," JD spoke up. "I told you we should have just gone on to Miz Inez's."

Chris nodded. "Yes, son," he said, patting the boy on the head, "next time I'll heed you're infinite wisdom when it comes to food."

JD glared up at him. "Are you makin' fun of me, Pa?" he asked, scowling.

Chris smiled down at him. "Would I do that, son?" he asked, smirking.

"Yes," JD replied, huffing. "Ya would."

Chris chuckled. "Why don't you go run and wake up Uncle Buck?" he suggested. "He should have breakfast with us."

JD looked hesitant. "Why me?" he asked. "He's so grumpy in the mornin'."

Chris chuckled. He couldn't disagree with him. Buck was not a morning person. "Because," he told him, "yer the only one he wouldn't get mad at for wakin' him up."

"Oh," JD said, "all right then, but if he tosses me out a window it'll be all yer fault, Pa."

"If he tosses you out a window, son," Chris told him, "I'll be underneath to catch you. I promise. Now, scoot." He turned JD around and sent him off with a playful smack to his rear. He headed for the boarding house.

Josiah chuckled. "That boy certainly can talk, can't he?"

Chris gave him a dirty look. "This is all your fault, you know," he told him.

"Me, Brother Chris?" Josiah asked innocently. "I was simply following the Lord's Will."

Chris snorted. "Remind me to have the Lord repay the kindness sometime," he said, grinning.

Vin couldn't help but grin.

_They sure are an odd family, _he thought himself, _but I like them._

Chris wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "What would you like for breakfast, Vin?" he asked, curiously. "Miz Inez is a pretty good cook, so it's bound to be delicious no matter what it is."

Vin shrugged. "Anything's fine with me, Sir," he told him. "I ain't a picky eater."

Chris grinned back at him. "Neither is JD," he said, "so you two should get along just fine. By the way, Vin, you don't have to keep callin' me "Sir". You can just call me Chris if you want."

Vin nodded. "All right," he said, "thank you, S—uh—Chris."

Chris chuckled. "Yer welcome, Lil'Pard," he said, patting him on the shoulder.

All of a sudden there was an almighty howl from one of the rooms in the boarding house and suddenly JD came running out as if his life depended on it. Buck came running out after him a second later, dripping wet and wearing nothing but his long johns.

"Pa, Pa," JD yelled, running and hiding behind me, "he's tryin' to kill me Pa!"

"I wonder why?" Josiah asked, smirking.

Chris rolled his eyes and turned to greet his very wet deputy. "Somethin' wrong, Buck?" he asked, with a perfectly straight face.

"You know damn well what's wrong," Buck growled at him. "Lil'Britches there dumped cold water on me! Scared poor Matilda half to death!"

Chris bit the inside of is cheek to keep from laughin' and he looked at JD who still hid behind him. "That true, son?" he asked, knowingly.

"He wouldn't get up, Pa," JD told him, "and you said to get him up."

"Oh he did, did he?" Buck asked, glaring at Chris.

"Now, Buck," the sheriff said, holding up his hands. "You wouldn't kill the town's sheriff right here on the street in front of all these witnesses, would you?"

Buck glared. "Maybe not," he said, "but I'd certainly knock him flat on his ass!"

"Brother Buck," Josiah said, as the deputy reared back, "would that be an appropriate example to be setting the lil'ones?"

Buck looked down at JD and Vin. "I don't suppose you two turn around, would ya?" he asked, hopeful.

JD smiled, and Vin even grinned. "Nope," they answered, smirking.

Buck glared at Josiah. "You're an evil man, Pastor," he told him, shaking his head and sighing.

Chris, not overly worried now that his friends temper had cooled, patted him on the arm. "Since you're already awake, Buck," he said, "why don't you go get dressed and join us for breakfast at Inez's."

Buck looked down at himself, realized for the first time he was in his underwear and blushed. "Uh, yeah," he said, "I'll do that." He turned and headed back to the boarding house rather quickly.

Chris, Josiah, and JD all three burst out laughing. Vin grinned.

_Yes, definitely an odd sort of family…_

TBC…


	7. Welcome to the Family

**Magnificent Seven**

"**Lil' Ones"**

**Summary****: In this Old West Alternate Universe: JD Dunne is seven, Vin Tanner is eight, and Ezra Standish is nine. All three wind up in Four Corners and all three end up in the care of Chris Larabee, who is the town's sheriff. Buck Wilmington is his deputy, Josiah Sanchez is the town's preacher, and Nathan Jackson is the town's doctor.**

**Author's Note:** **I have recently found the M7 "little" universe and absolutely loved it, for the most part. I especially loved the "little" Ezra stories. I must admit I have not actually seen the show, but seeing as how this **_**is **_**an AU story that wouldn't (or shouldn't, anyway) matter. I know enough about the characters to make it work–I hope… This will be a sort of blending of the "Little Britches" universe and the "Little Ezra" universe—with my own twist, of course ;) If you like "kid fics" I'd suggest reading these. They are great.**

**Warning:**** Spanking of minors. (Naturally, since this **_**is**_** the Old West.)**

_**Disclaimer:**_ **I don't own these characters. I just wrote this story for fun. Enjoy.**

**Chapter 7: Welcome to the Family**

They buried the old bounty hunter at the ranch. Because he was Indian, and a professed pagan, he could not be buried on church ground; nor did he want to be, according to Vin.

"He loved apple trees," Vin had told them. "He said he always wanted to be buried under one."

So, that is what they had done. They buried him under one of the apple trees that grew wild on the ranch.

Josiah, of course, presided over the ceremony with Chris and Buck mentioning a few things about what they knew about the old bounty hunter. Vin, though asked if he wanted to speak, didn't say anything merely stood there solemnly in the new suit that had been purchased for him.

JD stood beside him, also wearing a new suit, tugging ever so often to show his annoyance at having to dress in 'finery'. He didn't complain out loud, however, knowing how important this was to his new friend. He and Vin had become fast friends in the last few days and he wanted to show his support for him.

Once the ceremony was concluded, JD whispered to Nathan, "Can we get out of these duds now?"

Nathan smiled at him. "Yeah," he whispered back, "I'll take you up to the house." Together, the two of them made their way up to the house.

Josiah spoke quietly to Vin for a few minutes and then came to speak to Chris. "You should probably remain here," he said, "in case…" He looked back at the grieving little boy.

Chris nodded. "I know," he said, "will you all keep an eye on JD for me."

"Course," Buck said, "I'll teach Lil'Britches how to play…"

"We shall keep him occupied," Josiah interrupted before he could finish just what he intended to teach the boy.

Chris grinned. "Thank you," he said. "Vin and I will be along shortly."

The two other men nodded and turned to head back up to the house. Chris then made his way over to the quiet little boy who continued to stare at the old bounty hunter's grave.

Without really thinking about it, Chris reached out and placed a hand on top of the boy's head. He had flat out refused to let anyone cut it, saying that "Gran'father" had worn his long and he would too, in memory of the old man. Chris simply thought he'd found the perfect excuse to never get a haircut and hoped to goodness that JD didn't pick up on it.

"He's really gone," Vin finally spoke.

Chris nodded. "Yeah, son," he said, gently. "I'm afraid he is."

"I knew it up here," Vin said, tapping his temple, "but I didn't want to believe it in here." He placed a hand on his heart.

Chris nodded again, remembering that he had felt the same way when Sarah and Adam had died. "I know exactly what you mean," he told the boy, rubbing his hair.

"You do?" Vin asked, looking up at him with those large brown eyes of his.

Chris knelt down so that they were looking each other in the eye. "Yes, son," he said, "I do. About five or six years ago my wife and son were burned up in a fire. I didn't want to believe it, either."

Vin nodded, feeling bad for the man all of a sudden. "But you have JD now," he told him, "and Buck, Josiah, and Nathan to keep you company."

Chris smiled. "Yep," he agreed, "that I do, and I thank God every day for 'em, too."

Vin looked back at the grave. "What's gonna happen now, Mister Chris?" he asked. "To me, I mean? Am I gonna end up on an orphan train like JD? Or is Pastor Jo gonna try and find me a family?"

Chris had actually been thinking about these things, too. It was Buck, Josiah, and Nathan that finally made up his mind for him.

"C'mon, Chris," Buck had said the night before as they sat in Inez's saloon, "you know you love that little feller and there's no doubt he practically hero worships you."

He couldn't argue. In the few days that Vin had been with them, he'd come to care for long haired little boy just a much as he had JD. It was also pretty obvious the boy adored him, too.

"Brother Buck is right, Chris," Josiah had said, grinning. "Perhaps the Lord is speaking to you once more."

"So, one Lil'Britches wasn't enough," Chris said, "He's got to send me a Lil'Pard now, too."

Nathan had chuckled at that. "Looks that way to me, Chris," he said, taking a sip of his beer.

Chris had sighed, knowing they were all right.

He sighed now, as he knelt beside Vin.

"If you could stay here, Vin?" he finally asked the boy. "Would you?"

Vin's eyes widened at that. "Could I, Mister Chris?" he asked. "I wouldn't be too much trouble and I'd do my fair share. I promise!"

Chris stood back up. "Easy there, son," he said, "just hold on. So, you're saying you would like to live here with me and JD?"

Vin nodded, tears stinging his eyes. "Yes, Sir," he said, "I would. A lot."

Chris smiled. "Well then, Mr. Tanner," he said, seriously, "I guess there's only one thing left to say."

"What's that?" Vin asked, practically holding his breath.

"Welcome to the family, Lil'Pard," Chris said, beaming down at the boy.

Vin beamed back at him and then surprised him by jumping into his arms. "Thanks you," he whispered to him. "Thank you."

Chris hugged the boy close. "No need to thank me, son," he whispered. "Yer my boy now, just like JD."

Vin nodded, as he was sat back on his feet. "Mr. Chris?" he asked, smiling.

"Yeah, son?" Chris asked, as they started toward the house.

"Will you teach me to shoot?" the boy asked, seriously.

Chris hadn't been expecting that question, but he already knew the answer. "I will," he said, "when you're old enough."

Vin sighed. "But I'm not old enough right now, huh?" he asked, slightly disappointed.

"Not yet, Lil'Pard," he said, 'but don't worry you will be soon enough. I promise."

Vin nodded. "All right," he said, "and I'm still glad I'm getting to stay."

Chris grinned. "Me, too," he said. "Me too, son."

Together, they walked back up to the house to let JD know he now had a brother to play with.

_I wonder if Nathan has any of that headache tonic of his…_

TBC…


	8. Trigger Happy

**Magnificent Seven**

"**Lil' Ones"**

**Summary****: In this Old West Alternate Universe: JD Dunne is seven, Vin Tanner is eight, and Ezra Standish is nine. All three wind up in Four Corners and all three end up in the care of Chris Larabee, who is the town's sheriff. Buck Wilmington is his deputy, Josiah Sanchez is the town's preacher, and Nathan Jackson is the town's doctor.**

**Author's Note:** **I have recently found the M7 "little" universe and absolutely loved it, for the most part. I especially loved the "little" Ezra stories. I must admit I have not actually seen the show, but seeing as how this **_**is **_**an AU story that wouldn't (or shouldn't, anyway) matter. I know enough about the characters to make it work–I hope… This will be a sort of blending of the "Little Britches" universe and the "Little Ezra" universe—with my own twist, of course ;) If you like "kid fics" I'd suggest reading these. They are great.**

**Warning:**** Spanking of minors. (Naturally, since this **_**is**_** the Old West.)**

_**Disclaimer:**_ **I don't own these characters. I just wrote this story for fun. Enjoy.**

**(Mention of spanking in this chapter.)**

**Chapter 8: Trigger Happy**

Vin had been a part of Chris' family for three weeks now. In that time, he had come to love and respect the man as a father, the other three men as uncles, and JD as a younger brother.

There was just one thing ruining the whole thing, and that was Chris wouldn't teach him how to shoot a gun. Gran'father had promised to buy him his very own gun before he was shot.

_Gran'father thought I was old enough, _he thought to himself gloomily, _why doesn't Pap?_

Pap. That was how he had begun to think of Chris not too long after the man had asked him if he would like to stay. After all, JD called him "Pa" so why couldn't he call him that?

Unfortunately, he hadn't exactly worked up the courage to say it out loud yet.

He sighed again. _Yer supposed to be cleaning,_ he reminded himself.

It was his week to do the "inside" chores while JD mucked out the barn and fed the horse. They alternated weeks, which they had found they liked. Chris was pleased that the boys had found an effective way of handling chores without one having to do more than the other. This way they had the same amount of chores, it just one was inside while the other was outside.

Anything "big" that needed to be taken care of around the ranch was handled by Chris or Buck. At the moment, Buck was in town minding the jail while Chris was busy fixing one of the fence posts that had come loose.

It was while he was cleaning that Vin came across the gun. He'd been dusting in Chris' room when he'd been tempted to see what was in the side drawer of the man's bedside table.

_Yer not supposed to touch anything in here, _the logical quiet side of his brain said, however it wasn't that side he was listening to.

He was listening to the eight year old boy side with a little too much curiosity than common sense side. Opening the drawer, he was more than a little surprised to find a fire arm in it. It wasn't the one Chris used though, as that was currently hanging by his gun belt on the hat rack by the door—just as it always did when he was here and "off" duty.

This gun looked older, but he bet it still worked. Digging a little bit deeper, he found bullets for it. That was when an idea formed in his brain.

_If I show him I am old enough to handle a gun, _he thought eagerly to himself, _he'll have to teach me, won't he?_

Seeing only the positive side—or what he thought was the positive side—of his plan and none of the negative, he hurried out the back door with the fire arm and bullets. He knew he had to get far enough away from the house where he practicing wouldn't be heard, otherwise Chris would know something was going on.

Heading for the apple tree he had come to think of as "Gran'father's tree" he happily told the deceased bounty hunter all about his plan.

"So, see, Gran'father," he said, eagerly, "if I show him I can shoot a gun just like him, he _has _to teach me!" He waved the gun around for effect.

"I wouldn't bet on it, Lil'Pard," a familiar deep voice spoke from behind him, and he spun around to find a very angry looking Chris Larabee glaring at him.

Vin's eyes widened. "Huh," he stammered, unable to think of anything to say. Where had _he_ come from?

Chris crossed the distance between them and held out his hand. "I saw you headin' this way," he explained, "and came to see if you were all right. Hand it over."

Gulping, for this was the first time he'd heard that particular hint of steel in the man's voice, he handed over the fire arm. Chris looked at it, looked at the fact that it was now loaded, and his eyes hardened even more.

"Where did you get this?" he growled at him, angrily.

Vin looked down, unable to meet the man's eyes. He was also unable to speak.

"I asked you a question, Vincent Michael," Chris said, reaching over to lift his chin, "where did you get this gun?"

"F-From yer room," Vin answered, honestly. "I found it while I was cleaning."

"I didn't know my bedside drawer needed dusting?" he asked, knowingly. "The top of the table, yes, but not the inside of the drawer—which is where this was."

"I was curious," Vin told him, knowing that was not excuse.

"Curiosity killed the cat," Chris told him, "and for a good reason. You planned on shootin' this, didn't you?"

Vin bit his lip. "I wanted to prove to you that I'm old enough to learn to shoot," he told him, a little angry now. "Gran'father thought I was ready!"

Chris raised an eyebrow at him. "Don't raise yer voice to me, Vincent," he told him, quietly yet firmly. "Yer in enough trouble as it is."

Vin winced at that. He didn't like the sound of that. "I'm sorry," he said, quietly.

Chris sighed. "Vin," he said, gently, "what did I say about learning to shoot?"

"That you'd teach me when I'm old enough," Vin answered him, quietly.

"Did you not believe me?" Chris asked him. "Did you think I was lying to you?"

Vin's eyes widened at that. "No, Sir," he said, "I believed you."

"You just thought you were ready now," Chris said, knowingly.

Vin nodded. "Yes, sir," he said. "I'm sorry."

Chris sighed. He knew what he was going to have to do, but he still hated doing it.

"Let's go have a talk in the barn, Lil'Pard," he told the boy, wrapping an arm around the boy's shoulders.

Vin's eyes widened at that. JD had told him about what it meant to go have a "talk" in the barn. Chris was gonna spank him.

"Please, sir," he said, "I won't do it again. I promise I won't."

"Oh, I know you won't," Chris told him firmly, "especially after we're through in the barn."

Heading into the barn, they found JD mucking it out. "Hey, JD," Chris said, "me and Vin need to talk in here a minute. You mind going in and finishing the cleaning inside. Vin'll finish mucking out the barn."

JD looked between his adopted father and his adopted brother. Uh-Oh. It looked like Vin was about to get a "talk" with Pa's hand. Knowing he couldn't say no without risking his own backside, he gave his brother a sympathetic look and did as he had been told to do.

Once he was gone, Chris went and sat down on one of the hay stacks. "C'mere, Vin," he said, gently yet firmly.

Vin came, tears stinging his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, again.

"I know, son," Chris told him, "but what you were about to do was very dangerous. This gun is old, it hasn't been cleaned in Lord knows how long, and if you'd tried to shootin' with it, it could have exploded. You'd have a lost a hand, or worse…" Again, losing one of his new sons was as unthinkable as losing his first one had been.

"Not only that," he continued, "but you deliberately disobeyed me, and what is my rule about what I do if you do that?" He had explained the rules to Vin just as he had to JD, and the same consequences for breaking those rules.

"You spank us," Vin answered him, biting his lip.

"That's right, son," he said, "and it wouldn't be fair to JD if I spanked him for disobeying me but I didn't you. Yer both my sons now and that means when I love you both the same. That also mean I gotta punish you both the same when you break the same rule. Understand?"

Vin nodded. "Yes, Sir," he said, blinking back tears.

Chris sighed, and then guided the boy face down over his lap. Raising he hand back, he delivered a very thorough, very hard spanking to the upturned bottom.

When it was over, Vin was bawling and he let him cry on his shoulder just as he had done JD.

"Shhh, son," he told him, "yer forgiven now."

"I'm sorry, Pap," the boy whispered in his year, "I'm really sorry."

Chris wasn't quite sure if he'd heard him correctly or not, so he pushed the boy back a bit and asked, "What did you just call me, Lil'Pard?"

Vin's eyes widened when he realized he had actually called the man "Pap" out loud. "I called you Pap," he said, "but if you don't want me too…"

Chris stopped him. "No, son," he told him, feeling his heart swell with love just as it did when JD called him Pa, "it all right. I don't mind you calling me that."

Vin smiled. "All right then, Pap," he said, "and I am sorry." He reached back to rub his behind.

Chris chuckled. "I'm sure you are," he said, "I know I always was after my pap was done with me. Now, you finish mucking out the barn while I go check on your brother…after I get rid of this." He held up the fire arm.

"What are you going to do with it?" Vin asked, curious.

"Make sure no too curious little boys ever find it again," Chris answered him, smirking.

Vin smiled. Despite the fact he had a sore rear, or that he still didn't know how to shoot, he couldn't help himself.

He had a Pap again!

TBC…

AN—Ezra coming up next, so be prepared… ;)


	9. Ezra P Standish

**Magnificent Seven**

"**Lil' Ones"**

**Summary****: In this Old West Alternate Universe: JD Dunne is seven, Vin Tanner is eight, and Ezra Standish is nine. All three wind up in Four Corners and all three end up in the care of Chris Larabee, who is the town's sheriff. Buck Wilmington is his deputy, Josiah Sanchez is the town's preacher, and Nathan Jackson is the town's doctor.**

**Author's Note:** **I have recently found the M7 "little" universe and absolutely loved it, for the most part. I especially loved the "little" Ezra stories. I must admit I have not actually seen the show, but seeing as how this **_**is **_**an AU story that wouldn't (or shouldn't, anyway) matter. I know enough about the characters to make it work–I hope… This will be a sort of blending of the "Little Britches" universe and the "Little Ezra" universe—with my own twist, of course ;) If you like "kid fics" I'd suggest reading these. They are great.**

**Warning:**** Spanking of minors. (Naturally, since this **_**is**_** the Old West.)**

_**Disclaimer:**_ **I don't own these characters. I just wrote this story for fun. Enjoy.**

**(Now the story really begins… :)  
**

**Chapter 9: Ezra P. Standish**

The stagecoach pulled into Four Corners in a cloud of dust.

From it stepped an old man, three young women, and a young boy of about nine years old.

For the most part, the adults getting off were all average looking, nothing to gawk at or wonder at, but the boy…

Dressed in a blue suit and vest with shiny black dress shoes, he looked nothing like the children of the town—who tended to wear no shoes when they couldn't help it and were all usually covered in dust from playing or working by noon.

This boy was meticulously clean and as he stepped from the coach he gazed around at the small town with a mixture of confusion and distain.

Ezra P. Standish sighed. _Why would Maude want me to come here?_

That his mother had wired him and told her to meet him in a strange town in Texas didn't surprise him. She had been living him with nearly perfect strangers for the better part of his young life, and besides…she knew he was more than capable of looking after himself.

That he might, as any other child would, want her love and attention meant very little to her. There was only one thing Maude Standish loved and that was money.

"Here ya go, kid," the stage coach driver said, handing the boy his small carpetbag.

"Thank you, sir," Ezra said, his speech decidedly Southern and meticulously polite. "I thoroughly enjoyed the voyage."

_If by enjoy,_ he said to himself, _I meant the bumpy ride, the dirty seats, and horrendous food!_

His mother had taught him to be polite, though, even if that meant having to lie. Ezra could lye with a perfectly straight face and not blink an eye once.

The stagecoach driver gave him an odd look, as if to hear a "kid" speak in such a manner confused him.

_He probably has only had a third grade education,_ Ezra decided as he turned away from the stagecoach and headed toward the center of the town.

He was just wondering where he was to find his mother or more likely a place to wait for her when a blur came running out of an alley and plowed right into him. Knocked to the dirt covered street, he gazed up at his attacker in confusion and dismay.

It was a boy of about seven, wearing simple clothing consisting of a cotton shirt and corduroy breeches. He wasn't wearing any shoes and his feet, hands, and face were smudged with dirt.

"Oh, JD," another boy said, as he came out of the alley, "Look what'cha did!"

This boy looked to be about a year older than the first, which meant he was still a year younger than Ezra himself.

"I'm sorry bout that," JD said, reaching down to offer the fallen boy a hand. "Didn't see ya, is all. Me and Vin were playin' tag and he's it."

Ezra refused the offered hand and picked himself up off the ground. Shaking the dust from his clothes, he looked at the two other boys with disdain.

_Children,_ he thought with disgust shaking his head. The fact that he was one himself didn't cross his mind at that moment.

"It is quite all right," he said, still being as polite as possible.

"Did ya just come in on the stage?" the one named Vin, who's hair was considerably longer than the one called JD, asked him.

"Yes, that's correct," Ezra told him, picking up his carpetbag.

"Oh, yer new in town!" JD exclaimed, taking his hand and shaking it enthusiastically. "Nice ta meet'cha!"

Ezra quickly tugged back his hand. "Yes," he said, sighing, "thank you."

Vin stepped up and actually held out his hand. "I'm Vin Tanner," he said, "and this here is my brother, JD Dunne." He jerked his thumb at the younger boy.

Ezra didn't take his hand. "I am Ezra P. Standish," he informed them, "it is nice to meet you, as well." Though, he rather felt that it wasn't.

"What's the "P" stand for?" JD asked, curious. "My name's John Daniel, but I don't like it so everybody just calls me "JD"."

"Yes, well," Ezra said, not certain how to respond to that. "My middle name is Phillip. Ezra Phillip Standish."

Vin whistled. "And here I thought me and JD had awful names," he said, without thinking, "but yours takes the cake. Why'd yer folks tack ya with a name like that for?"

Ezra shrugged. "My mother has never deemed it necessary to explain her reasons," he told him.

"Oh," Vin said, and fell silent. He didn't know why, but he got the distinct feeling this kid didn't like them for some reason.

"Did yer ma make ya get dressed up for some reason?" JD asked, gesturing to his suit and clothes. "I hate when Pa makes me get all gussied up."

"These are my regular clothing," Ezra told him, somewhat haughtily.

"Oh," JD said, finally catching on that something was off about the older boy. "Okay."

Ezra sighed. He had grown tired of this ridiculous conversation long ago. "If you gentlemen could direct me the nearest lodging house," he asked, "I would certainly appreciate it."

JD and Vin simply looked at each other. What had he said?

Ezra sighed. _Not just children, but uncouth children!_

"Could you please show me where I can find a place to spend the night?" he tried again, this time using much simpler vocabulary.

"Oh," Vin said, understanding now. "There's the boarding house, but that's all full up. Miz Inez rents rooms, but yer folks probably won't want ta stay there…"

"Why is that?" Ezra asked, curiously.

"Cuz she runs the saloon," Vin explained, seriously.

"Really?" Ezra asked, grinning. Saloons usually meant drunken men and games of chance; which meant that he could use his rather unique talents to take their money.

"Yep," JD said, "but Miz Inez is super nice and is a great cook!"

"Then that will do nicely," Ezra told them, "I thank you for your help, Masters Dunne and Tanner. Good day." With that, he moved passed them headed in the direction he assumed was the saloon.

"He sure is a strange one, JD," Vin commented to his brother.

"Yep," JD said, grinning mischievously, "but yer still it!" He tagged his brother on the shoulder and took off once more.

Vin grinned, and then ran in hot pursuit.

Ezra never looked back. He had never had any interest in the games of children…even if a small part of him longed to simply be a child and live their care-free existence.

_Don't be absurd,_ he told himself. _You were born to be a gentleman and gentleman do not frolic about like hooligans._

It was strange but he could almost hear his mother's voice behind those words. Maude Standish loved money, and she did just about anything to get it…even use her nine year son and Ezra had been trained from an early age to act the part of a wealthy gentleman so that those types of people would believe him to be one of them.

_Don't be childish,_ His mother had once said when he asked to go see a baseball game in St. Louis, _you are better than that. We have more important things to do._

That had been the time she had been attempting to con that rather wealthy man into believing Ezra was his illegitimate son…they had failed, unfortunately, and had to move on but he never again asked about "childish" things since then.

"Hello there, son," a deep male voice spoke halting him in his tracks.

He glanced up to see a tall man with deep blue eyes staring down at him. He was also wearing a lawman's badge, which put Ezra instantly on alert. His mother had warned him to stay as far away from lawmen as he could.

Putting on his most innocent smile, he asked, "Good day, sir."

"You just get off the stage, son?" the man asked, curiously.

"Yes, sir," Ezra answered honestly, as he saw no reason to lye about that. He had, after all.

"Yer folks about?" the man asked again, still just seemingly curious.

"I'm meeting my mother here," Ezra told him. "She should be arriving soon."

The man raised an eyebrow. "You by your self?" he asked, seemingly surprised.

"For the moment, Sir," Ezra asked, feeling a bit panicked. "As I said, my mother will be arriving shortly."

The man nodded. "Well," he said, "if you need anything, son, just feel free to stop by the jail. Me and my deputy are always willing to lend a helping hand. I'm Chris Larabee, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Sir," Ezra said, purposely not giving his own name, "and thank you for the offer." _Not that I am likely to take you up on it…_

"Well," Chris said, "I don't suppose you happened to see a couple of little hooligans running about, have you? They'd be about your age or younger. Go by the names JD and Vin?"

"Yes, sir," Ezra said, "they went that way, I believe." He pointed in the direction he assumed the two other boys had run off then.

Chris smiled and tilted his hat to him. "Thank you, son," he said, "and remember, if you need anything just come to the jail. If I'm not there my deputy, Buck Wilmington, will be."

Ezra nodded. "Thank you, sir," he said, and then continued on his way without being too obvious that he was trying to escape.

Chris watched him go, rubbing his chin absently. A child on his own didn't usually bold well, and something seemed off about that kid.

_Too clean, too polite, and just a little too smart,_ he thought to himself, but then shook his head. He was probably just imagining things.

Turning, he headed in the direction his boys had gone. They were to have lunch with Mary and the judge. He still thought he'd keep an eye on that boy, though, just to be on the safe side.

Ezra found the saloon without any problem and went inside. Being the middle of the day, it was of course un-crowded. A rather pretty Hispanic woman manned the bar.

"Well," she said, smiling at him, "hello there."

"Good afternoon, ma'am," he said, smiling his most charming smile, "I've come about a room."

Inez raised an eyebrow. "A room?" she asked. "Are you sure?"

"Quite sure, ma'am," he told her. "My mother is to meet me here and she asked me to get a room for the two of us." That was only partially a lie, as Maude _had _told him to get a room once he arrived him town.

"I see," Inez said, grinning.

"If it is a matter of currency that you are concerned about," he told her, "I can pay."

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the rolled up bills his mother had sent him. He had other money in his carpet bag, of course, but that belonged to his mother and he was not to spend it.

Inez smiled. To hear such adult language and see adult mannerisms pour out forth from a young child both amused and horrified her.

_Poor thing, _she thought as she took the money and counted out what she usually charged for a room and then divided it in half, _he sounds as if he's gotten all the "kid" knocked plum outta him. That such a shame._

"Here you go, son," she said, handing him back the money, "I've gotta room for ya. Got a name, by any chance?"

"Ezra P. Standish, Ma'am," he told her, politely.

"Well, Ezra P. Standish," she told him, smiling. "Welcome to Four Corners."

TBC…


	10. The Lil' Gambler

**Magnificent Seven**

"**Lil' Ones"**

**Summary****: In this Old West Alternate Universe: JD Dunne is seven, Vin Tanner is eight, and Ezra Standish is nine. All three wind up in Four Corners and all three end up in the care of Chris Larabee, who is the town's sheriff. Buck Wilmington is his deputy, Josiah Sanchez is the town's preacher, and Nathan Jackson is the town's doctor.**

**Author's Note:** **I have recently found the M7 "little" universe and absolutely loved it, for the most part. I especially loved the "little" Ezra stories. I must admit I have not actually seen the show, but seeing as how this **_**is **_**an AU story that wouldn't (or shouldn't, anyway) matter. I know enough about the characters to make it work–I hope… This will be a sort of blending of the "Little Britches" universe and the "Little Ezra" universe—with my own twist, of course ;) If you like "kid fics" I'd suggest reading these. They are great.**

**Warning:**** Spanking of minors. (Naturally, since this **_**is**_** the Old West.)**

_**Disclaimer:**_ **I don't own these characters. I just wrote this story for fun. Enjoy.**

**Chapter 10: The Lil' Gambler**

Four days.

Four days he'd been in Four Corners without word, until today.

Ezra now knew Maude wasn't coming this time. He glanced down at the telegram he'd gotten this afternoon.

_Maude Standish arrested *stop* for fraud *stop* sent to prison._

Ezra didn't quite know how to feel, and he wasn't really sure he felt anything at all.

_So, mother was finally caught,_ he thought glumly to himself.

Too bad for her, but what did it mean for him?

_What am I to do?_ He asked himself. He had no idea.

He was nine years old, alone, and carrying around a substantial amount of money in a small Western town that was more than likely crawling with men who would just love to get there hands on it.

In fact, most of them were probably downstairs in the saloon right now…

The sounds from downstairs drifted to him, and it was then that he was struck with an idea. He couldn't spend Maude's money, even though the more logical side of his mind knew she certainly wouldn't be coming for it now, but that didn't mean he couldn't win some of his own to get him back to St. Louis.

_I'll take the train this time,_ he told himself. _I'll start over._

He quickly made himself look presentable, the way she had always taught him, and then made his way downstairs.

In the four days since he arrived, he had left his room only to acquire food and to check with the telegraph office. He had made certain to stay well away from the jail, and its two lawmen…and those two boys, whom he'd learned were the sheriff's adopted sons.

Once downstairs, he looked around the crowded saloon until he saw what he was looking for. Despite the fact that Inez had spotted him the moment he'd stepped off the stairs, he didn't pay her any attention. He had to focus if he was to achieve his goal, and that was to win some money off drunken men ripe for the taking.

"Good evening, gentlemen," he greeted the four men playing poker. "Do you perhaps have room for one more in the game?"

The four men, all of whom were smoking cigars, looked at him and laughed. "Ain't it past yer bedtime, kid," one of them sneered, taking a chug from his mug of beer.

"Yeah," another agreed, "bet yer mama's wonderin' where ya are!"

Ezra forced his hurt feeling down, and gave them his most charming smile. "My mother isn't here, gentlemen," he told them, "and I go to bed when I choose. If it is a matter of capital, I can assure you have more than enough to enter the game." He pulled out the cash he had left and showed it to them.

The four men all glanced at each other and smiled. Sure, they'd let him in. If the kid was willing to throw away good money, they weren't going to stop them.

Ezra had seen those looks before and knew from experience that these allowed his age and youth to misjudge him. He grinned as they told him to pull up a seat and dealt him in.

"So, gentlemen," he asked, grinning. "What are we playing this evening?"

An hour later, he had wiped the floor with the lot of them and taken every last cent they had.

"Well, gentlemen," he said, smiling widely at his victory, "it's been a pleasure." He reached to take his winnings, but one of the men laid his hand down.

"Not so fast, sonny," he growled at him. "I don't know how, but there's no way a runt like you could have beat us!"

"Yeah," another man agreed. "I say you cheated!"

"You know what we do to cheaters, boy?" a third growled, drawing a knife from somewhere.

Ezra's eyes widened, and he had to fight to remain calm. "I can assure you, gentlemen," he said, his voice sounding very shaky to his own ears, "that I in no way cheated. I won fairly."

"Well, kid," the fourth man said, menacing, "the four of us says otherwise." He stood up to join the others, all of them prepared to leap on the boy.

"Now, boys," a deep male voice spoke, "I don't reckon four grown men ganging up on one small boy are fair odds, do you?"

They all looked to see Sheriff Chris Larabee standing there, thumbs tucked into his belt regarding them seriously.

"You stay out of this, Larabee," one of the men growled. "This is between us and the kid here. He cheated!"

Chris raised an eyebrow. "Can you prove that, Carl?" he asked him, pointedly.

The man growled. "No," he grumbled, "but how else did he beat us?"

Chris shrugged. "The boy might just be good at cards," he said, "there isn't an age limit, you know. Now, why don't you boys just be gracious losers and head on home. Now." The last was a command and they all knew it.

Rather than risk the fury of the town's principal protectors, the four men grumbled and growled a few minutes more and then departed, leaving Ezra standing in one piece and with the money still intact.

The boy gulped, as the sheriff hadn't left with the others. He merely continued to stare at him.

"Did you cheat, son?" he asked him, raising an eyebrow.

Ezra glared at him. "No, Sheriff," he told him, indignant, "I did not."

"Awfully odd to see a boy playin' poker," Chris commented casually, though his eyes said he was more than a little interested in the boy.

Ezra glared at him. "As you yourself said, Sheriff," he told him, annoyed, "there is no age limit on skills with cards."

Chris nodded. "That's certainly true," he said, "but it's not so much a surprise when the kid in question is the son of a con artist."

Ezra's eyes widened. He knew! "I beg your pardon, Sheriff," he lied, "but I haven't the faintest idea what you're referring to."

Chris' eyes hardened. "I don't take kindly to being lied to, son," he told him, his voice stern, "so why don't we go up to your room and have a chat."

Ezra crossed his arms. "And if I refuse?" he asked, defiantly.

Chris shrugged. "I can always pick you up and carry you," he threatened. "Either way works for me."

Ezra sighed, and looked down. What was he going to do? "Actually, Sheriff," he told him, "I think I prefer option C."

Chris smirked. "There is no option C, son," he told him.

Ezra smirked back. "Of course, Sheriff," he told him, "there is always option C." That was when he reached behind him and grabbed the bottle of whisky one of the men he'd been playing cards with. He promptly threw it at the sheriff's head.

The moment Chris ducked to avoid being hit by the bottle, he was off like a rocket. Up the stairs to his room, he locked and bolted the door. Chris had flown up the stairs directly after him, and now pounded on the door.

"Open the door, son," he growled, "otherwise I'll have to break it down and Inez won't like that one bit."

Ezra snorted as he grabbed his carpet bag and climbed out the window. "As I said, Sheriff," he muttered, as he slid down the roof from the gutter pipe, 'there's always an option C." In this case, he ran.

He had just reached the jailhouse when he glanced back to see Chris running after him. There were two horses tethered in front of the jailhouse, and without really thinking he grabbed the reins of the first one and hoisted himself onto it. He then spurred the horse around and galloped off.

_Great,_ he thought to himself, _now you're a thief. You really do want to end up like Maude!_

"Damn!" Chris swore, stopping a moment to catch his breath. He couldn't believe he'd let that kid trick him!

"What happened?" Buck asked, running out of the jail. "Did ya go talk to the kid?"

"I never got the chance," Chris growled. "He threw a whisky bottle at my head and then took off. He just stole my horse!" He pointed to where the kid was riding off on Shadow.

Buck didn't know whether to chuckle or pat his partner in sympathy. "Take my horse," he told him. "I'll stay with the boys." JD and Vin were sound asleep at the boarding house.

Chris nodded, and swung into the saddle of Buck's stallion. "Thanks," he said. "Wait 'til I get my hands on that kid. His ass is mine!"

Buck chuckled. "Just make sure there aren't any rocks around," he told him. "He's liable to throw one at you."

Chris growled and kicked his heels. Buck's horse shot off after the kid.

Ezra rode in complete in utter terror. How had things gotten to the point where he was running from the law!

Okay, so maybe he and Maude had been running from the law all his life but this was different.

This he couldn't lie at his mother's feet, as this was his doing. Not only had he thrown a whisky bottle at the sheriff's head, but he'd also stolen the man's horse…at least he thought it was Larabee's horse.

The sound of galloping hooves sounded behind him, and he looked back to see the sheriff riding at full speed after him.

He paled, and turned back around…just in time to see a low hanging tree branch right in front of him.

Not having enough time to duck, he was thrown from the back of the large stallion and landed hard on the ground, all of the air being forced from his lungs. Everything went black for a moment.

When his vision cleared, he found Chris Larabee standing over him. "You all right, son?" the sheriff asked, concerned.

Still a bit winded, Ezra could only nod his head.

"Anything hurt?" Chris asked the boy.

Ezra shook his head no.

Chris nodded. "All right then," he said, "let's get you on your feet." He bent down and lifted the boy to his feet. He made sure to keep a firm hold on the kid's collar to keep him from running away.

Ezra was aware of this and when he got his voice back, he growled, "Unhand me, Sheriff."

Chris smirked. "I ain't in the habit of taking orders from kids," he told him, sternly, "especially those that lie and steal."

He pulled the boy over to the where his carpet bag had fell and picked up up. That made Ezra very nervous.

"Give me my bag, Sheriff," he told him, hotly. "It's mine!"

"Hold yer horses, kid," Chris told him, "I'm just gonna see if anything was broken." He flicked the clasp with his thumb, and was about to shake it open.

"No, you can't," Ezra growled. "Give me the damn bag!"

Chris gave him a shake. "You know something, kid," he growled at him, "I'm getting' mighty tired of you tellin' me what to do and I really don't like it when little boys swear at me. If I had a bar of soap handy, I'd be wiping yer mouth clean with it."

Ezra glared at him. "Please," he begged, "just give me the bag."

"In a minute," Chris told him, and shook the bag open. He peered inside, shook it around a bit, and then let out a whistle at what was in the very bottom.

Ezra didn't need to be told that he'd found the money that was in it, the look on the sheriff's face confirmed.

"Well now," Chris said, glancing down at the boy, "that's a mighty hefty sum for a boy your age to carrying about, don't you think?"

"It isn't mine," Ezra told him, sullenly.

"I kinda figured that, Lil'Bit," he told him, "so the question who's is it?"

Ezra continued to glare at him. "My mother's," he told him, "and she won't appreciate at you taking it."

"Just like the men she took it from, no doubt," Chris said, "didn't appreciate her taking it from them." He shook his head. He couldn't believe this boy's mother had bilked men out of their money and then sent her son alone into the dangerous West carrying it.

"How did you know?" Ezra asked him, curious. "About my mother?"

"We received a wire today," Chris told him, "telling us to be on the look out for an Ezra P. Standish, a little boy that matched your description was given and that you were carrying around a carpet bag with cash in it. It also told us about your mother."

Ezra sighed. "How did you know it was me?" he asked. "I never told you my name."

"You told my boys, though," Chris reminded him, "and JD just couldn't wait to tell us all about the strange kid he and his brother had met."

"Oh," Ezra said, sighing. "So, are you going to take me to jail?"

"I probably should," Chris admitted, "seeing as how you did attempt to assault a lawman, fled custody, _and_ stole my horse…but quite frankly, son, you look like you've had a rough enough day without spending the night behind bars. So, I think we'll head back into town and I'll keep you company tonight. Tomorrow, we'll figure out what to do with you."

Ezra sighed. So much for any hope of sneaking off in the night…

"What about the money?" he asked him, curious.

"It goes back to where it came from," Chris told him, firmly.

Ezra nodded, understanding.

Chris pulled him along to where Shadow had stopped once his small-sized rider had been dislodged. Chris lifted Ezra into the saddle and then climbed up himself.

Grabbing the reins of Buck's horse, he kicked his heels gently and steered Shadow back towards town.

Ezra sat in front, wondering what the morning would bring.

_Jail or the Orphanage, more like than not, _he told himself.

Neither prospect sounded particularly thrilling to him.

TBC…


	11. Option C

**Magnificent Seven**

"**Lil' Ones"**

**Summary****: In this Old West Alternate Universe: JD Dunne is seven, Vin Tanner is eight, and Ezra Standish is nine. All three wind up in Four Corners and all three end up in the care of Chris Larabee, who is the town's sheriff. Buck Wilmington is his deputy, Josiah Sanchez is the town's preacher, and Nathan Jackson is the town's doctor.**

**Author's Note:** **I have recently found the M7 "little" universe and absolutely loved it, for the most part. I especially loved the "little" Ezra stories. I must admit I have not actually seen the show, but seeing as how this **_**is **_**an AU story that wouldn't (or shouldn't, anyway) matter. I know enough about the characters to make it work–I hope… This will be a sort of blending of the "Little Britches" universe and the "Little Ezra" universe—with my own twist, of course ;) If you like "kid fics" I'd suggest reading these. They are great.**

**Warning:**** Spanking of minors. (Naturally, since this **_**is**_** the Old West.)**

_**Disclaimer:**_ **I don't own these characters. I just wrote this story for fun. Enjoy.**

**Chapter 11: Option C**

When Ezra woke up the next morning, in his room above the saloon, he couldn't help but wonder if it had all been a dream.

Unfortunately, the door opening and Sheriff Chris Larabee entering told him it wasn't.

"Mornin'," Chris greeted him, smirking.

"Hello, Sheriff," Ezra replied, groaning.

Chris grinned. "Not exactly a mornin' person, are ya?" he asked, cheerfully. "My deputy, Buck, is the same way. He sounds just like a bear if he doesn't get a hot cup of coffee in him."

Ezra rolled his eyes, wondering why the man was telling him that bit of pointless information. "Why are you here?" he asked him, bluntly. His mother's lessons about manners aside, he was in no mood to be polite.

"Well, I reckoned you might be hungry," Chris told him, "and Inez is preparin' breakfast. The boys are waitin' downstairs for us."

"Boys?" Ezra asked, climbing out of bed.

"Yeah," Chris told him, "my boys, JD and Vin."

"Oh," Ezra said, "them." Wonderful, he would have to endure an entire meal with the two younger boys. He doubted the sheriff would give him much choice in the matter.

Chris chuckled. "They can be a bit much, I'll admit," he told him, "but there good boys."

_Unlike me, you mean, _Ezra thought to himself.

"What happens after breakfast?" he asked him, curiously.

Chris wondered if he should go ahead and tell him what he and Judge Travis decided that morning or wait 'til after breakfast. The boy's stomach rumbling answered for him. He grinned. No matter what, a boy's stomach was still a boy's stomach and it didn't like being kept waiting for grub.

"I reckon we'll talk about that after breakfast," he said. "You go ahead and get dressed."

Ezra nodded, and waited for the man to leave the room. When he didn't, he asked, "Would you mind stepping outside, Sheriff?"

Chris chuckled. "You do realize you ain't got nothin' I ain't seen before, son," he told him, "right?"

Ezra glared at him. "I am not your son, Sheriff," he growled at him, "and I think I am entitled to a little privacy—unless they have made a law saying otherwise."

Chris shook his head. Couldn't the kid sound like a kid, even a little bit? "You gonna try and run like you did last night?" he asked him, crossing his arms.

"Where would I go?" Ezra asked him, rolling his eyes. "You took all my means of purchasing any mode of decent transportation and I highly doubt I would get very far on foot."

Chris nodded. "True enough," he agreed, "but let me make myself clear, Lil'Bit. You try another stunt like you did last night and you're gonna be one sorry little boy. Understand?"

He was now nearly nose to nose with the kid, his eyes flint hard.

Ezra's eyes widened, but he nodded. "Yes, sir," he said, "I understand."

Chris nodded. "Good," he said, "I'll just be right outside the door." He then left him to get dressed.

Ezra sighed, and got out a clean shirt, vest, and pants. He then changed into them, put on his jacket and shoes, and then stepped out the door.

Chris looked at him curiously. "Them the only clothes you own?" he asked him, scratching his chin.

"Yes," Ezra replied. "Why?"

Chris shrugged. "No particular reason," he told him, "just wonderin' is all."

_Gonna have to get the boy some work clothes,_ he thought to himself, _and I can just bet he's gonna put up one heck of fuss about it, too._

"C'mon," he said to the boy, "let's go get some grub."

Ezra wrinkled his nose at the slang, but nodded. "Very well," he said, and followed the man down the stairs.

"Mornin', Ezra," JD greeted him right away once he and the sheriff had descended the stairs. "How ya been?"

"Just fine, Master Dunne," Ezra replied, wearily, "and you, Master Tanner?"

Vin snorted. _Couldn't this kid ever talk plain?_

"Vin," Chris said, raising an eyebrow, "Ezra asked you a question, son. Don't be rude."

"I've been fine, too," Vin answered, though he didn't smile as he said it.

"C'mon, Ezra," JD said, "we're gonna be sittin' over here. Miz Inez is making pancakes! She makes the best dang pancakes in the world!"

Ezra didn't have time to protest as the younger boy grabbed his arm and began dragging him over to a table with seven chairs around it.

"I thought you said it would be just us, Sheriff," he said, looking at Chris.

"It is," Chris told him. "You, me, JD, Vin, Buck, Josiah, and Nathan."

"Josiah's the pastor and Nate's the doc," JD supplied, before he could ask who the two men he didn't recognize were. "Yer gonna like 'em, Ez, their real nice."

"It's Ezra," he told him, "and I'm sure I will." He sat down.

Vin deliberately went and sat on the other side of his brother, not wanting to have anything to do with the boy who had tried to hurt their father and then stolen his horse. He didn't care what Pap said about it being the older boy's mam's fault him being the way he was, he still thought Ezra was bad news and wished JD wouldn't be so welcoming to the older boy.

Chris noticed his son's lack of response to Ezra, but didn't say anything. He had enough to deal with at the moment. Namely, finding away to break through the hardened shell the little gambler had managed to put around himself in the form of adult mannerisms and language.

Underneath that shell, he had a feeling lurked a nine year old boy just like any other nine year old boy who just wanted someone to love him and care about what happened to him. His mama certainly didn't, and with her being locked up there was on one the kid could depend on.

_No kid should be mini-adult,_ he thought to himself, _they should be allowed to be kids for as long as possible._

He was determined to bring out the child within Ezra, if it was the last thing he did.

First thing was first, though, and that was getting' through breakfast without blood being shed. Luckily, the others arrived just then and had a seat.

"Well now," Buck said, smiling at Ezra, "this must be the Lil'Bit who gave ole Chris here quite a workout last night. Howdy, kiddo, I'm Buck."

Ezra nodded. "It's nice to meet you, Deputy Wilmington," he replied, inclining his head politely.

Buck was a bit thrown by the adult like response, but quickly shrugged it off. "Yes sir," he said, smiling teasingly at Chris, "I haven't seen ole Chris here so outta breath in a mighty long time. Ain't that right, Pard." He slapped the sheriff on the back.

Chris rolled his eyes. "This from the man," he said, "who sits in the jail house with his feet propped up and snoozing the day away while the real law man in this town does all the work."

"Now hold it right there, Pard," Buck said, feigning indignanty, "are you callin' me lazy?"

"Sounds like it to me, Brother Buck," Josiah said, grinning mischievously, "what say you, Brother Nathan?"

"Well now," Nathan said, smiling also, "I'd say that would be assumption, Brother Jo, and from a purely clinical view point—I did do your last physical, Buck—I'd have to agree with Chris on this one."

Buck huffed. "What about you, boys?" he asked, looking at JD and Vin. "You think ole Uncle Buck is lazy?"

JD, who hero worshipped Buck like crazy, shook his head. "Course not, Uncle Buck," he said, smiling. "All the ladies say yer not!"

"That don't count," Vin told him. "They're talkin' bout something else. That don't count. Does it, Pap?" He looked at Chris.

All eyes turned to the sheriff, who was blushing furiously. "Uh, well," he said, not quite sure how to answer it, "oh, look, here comes Inez with those pancakes. Boy, am I starved!"

The other three men chuckled at this. "Coward," Buck told him, giving him playful shove.

"Inez, my beauty," the deputy said, using his most 'lady-killing' smile, "tell these louts that I'm not lazy."

"I would, Senor Buck," she told him sweetly, too sweetly, "if I could."

This sent the other three, and the boys except Ezra, into peals of laughter.

Buck grabbed his heart. "Inez, you wound me," he said, feigning hurt. "Why don't you come over here and kiss it to make it better!?"

Inez snorted. "I am afraid, Senor Buck," she told him, grinning wickedly, "you will have to kiss it yerself." With that, she turned and headed back into the kitchen to retrieve the syrup she had left in there.

"No respect," Buck muttered, "I just get plain no respect."

"Come now, Buck," Chris told him. "I'm sure the horses respect you."

This sent everyone, including Buck, into more laughter.

Ezra had sat listening to this and wondering what it must be like to be able to know that you could joke around with someone because you were close enough to know they wouldn't actually get offended by anything you said.

_They're a family,_ he realized as he began to eat his pancakes.

It must be nice to be a part of a family and he also knew it was an experience he was never going to have; and never had.

Maude had never been a true mother to him, so he had never had a family with her.

And now, he never would.

At that moment, he felt more like a lost little nine year old boy than he had in his entire life. He felt like curling up into a tight little ball and crying his eyes out.

_Get a hold of yourself,_ he told himself stubbornly_ You're not a kid, stop acting like one._

But part of him knew he was, and it was that part that was causing his heart to long for something he saw as beyond his reach. It was that part that made him want to cry.

The joking and laughing continued through out the entire meal, until finally every last pancake was gone, all seven plates were clean, and all seven mugs (the men had coffee while the three boys had milk) were drained dry.

Chris caught Buck's eye and nodded. His best friend and deputy nodded back.

"My goodness, I'm plain stuffed," he said, patting his belly. "Hey, JD, what say you and I grab our fishin' poles and take a walk to the pond? We can work off our breakfast that'll way."

JD, who loved going fishing but especially with Buck, hopped up from the table instantly. "Let's go," he said, grabbing a hold of the man's hand and tugging.

"All right, Lil'Britches," he said, "hold yer horses. I'm comin'." He allowed himself to be pulled from the saloon.

"Vin," Nathan said, "didn't you promise to help me clean my tools and stuff today?"

Vin nodded. "Yeah, Uncle Nate," he said, "I did."

"Then let's get to it," he said, and then winked. "Maybe afterwards, we'll head down to the pond, too."

They got up, and so did Josiah. "I need to go speak to Sister Mary about the upcoming Family Day Picnic we're to have at the church," he said, then grinned, "then I too believe I shall join Brother Buck and JD at the pond."

The three headed out, leaving Ezra and Chris sitting at the table.

Ezra had been silently dreading this moment. He knew Chris was about to tell him his fate.

"How about we take a walk, Ezra?" the sheriff suggested. "I'm a bit full myself."

Ezra nodded, wiping his mouth with his napkin and setting it on his plate. He then got up and followed the man out of the saloon.

They walked along with wooden sidewalk of the town for a bit, before Ezra could no longer stand the silence or uncertainty. He had to know what was going to happen to him and he had to know now!

"What's going to happen to me, Sheriff?" he asked Chris. "Am I going to jail or to an orphanage?"

"Well, your definitely not going to jail, son," Chris told him, stopping and looking at him, "but about the orphanage…that's up to you."

"What do you mean?" Ezra asked him, curious. "With Maude in prison, there's no one to look after me, so what other option is there besides an orphanage?"

Chris grinned. "Weren't you the one who said there's always an option C?" he asked him, teasing.

Ezra nodded. "Yes," he said, "but I don't see one in this scenario."

"Well, there is," the man told him, "if you accept it, that is."

"What is it?" Ezra asked, desperate.

"I talked to Judge Travis this morning," Chris told him, "and he agree to place you into my custody provided that I insure you no longer engage in more of your mama's 'dealings'."

Ezra was confused. "I don't understand," he said, "what does that mean?"

"It means, Ezra," Chris told him, kneeling down so that he was looking the boy in the eye, "that you will come live with me, JD, and Vin on my ranch provided that you keep your nose clean and out of trouble. Do you think you can do that?"

"So," Ezra said, "if I agree to this, I won't have to go to an orphanage?"

Chris nodded. "That's exactly what it means," he told him, "provided that you stay out of trouble. Can you do that?"

Ezra nodded. "Won't your sons mind?" he asked, curiously.

Chris shrugged. "It ain't up to them," he said, "and besides, JD'll love having you around."

_I'd bet ten to one odds that Vin wouldn't,_ Ezra thought but didn't say so out loud.

He knew he should probably ask what staying with the sheriff would entail, but really he didn't much care at the moment. Anything was better than going to an orphanage.

"All right," he said, "I accept option C."

Chris looked at him seriously. "Are you sure, son?" he asked him, firmly. "Really?"

Ezra nodded. "I am, Sir," he said, seriously.

Chris stood back up. "All right then," he said, nodding his head in satisfaction. "Now that that has been decided, why don't we mosey on down to the pond to see if Buck has managed to fall in the pond. He usually does when him and JD go fishin' together."

He knew the boy didn't fully understand what he was agreeing to, and also that there was going to be a lot of adjusting—on all their parts—but at the moment he wasn't going to get into it. Right now, he just wanted the boy to get used to being around them.

They'd worry about the other stuff tomorrow.

_Why do I get the feelin' tomorrow is gonna be one Hell of a day!_

TBC…


	12. Settling In, Sort Of

**Magnificent Seven**

"**Lil' Ones"**

**Summary****: In this Old West Alternate Universe: JD Dunne is seven, Vin Tanner is eight, and Ezra Standish is nine. All three wind up in Four Corners and all three end up in the care of Chris Larabee, who is the town's sheriff. Buck Wilmington is his deputy, Josiah Sanchez is the town's preacher, and Nathan Jackson is the town's doctor.**

**Author's Note:** **I have recently found the M7 "little" universe and absolutely loved it, for the most part. I especially loved the "little" Ezra stories. I must admit I have not actually seen the show, but seeing as how this **_**is **_**an AU story that wouldn't (or shouldn't, anyway) matter. I know enough about the characters to make it work–I hope… This will be a sort of blending of the "Little Britches" universe and the "Little Ezra" universe—with my own twist, of course ;) If you like "kid fics" I'd suggest reading these. They are great.**

**Warning:**** Spanking of minors. (Naturally, since this **_**is**_** the Old West.)**

_**Disclaimer:**_ **I don't own these characters. I just wrote this story for fun. Enjoy.**

**Chapter 12: Settling In…well, Sort Of**

"I am not wearing that," Ezra declared to Chris, firmly.

He was referring to the simple cotton shirt and tan denim breeches the man had just laid on his bed.

They had all headed out to the ranch just yesterday, three days after Ezra had agreed to come stay there, so this was his first official day there.

Chris crossed his arms. "You want to get your other clothes dirty?" he asked, bluntly.

Ezra glared. "No," he muttered, sourly.

"Then you'll put them on," Chris told him, firmly. "Here, Ezra, every body pulls their own weight. Every body does the chores, and for you three boys that means dustin' and sweetin' inside the house, and mucking out the barn before feedin' the horses outside the house. Now, put those clothes on and follow me. I'm gonna show you what to do in the barn."

Ezra crossed his arms over his chest and glared at him stubbornly. "And if I refuse?" he asked him, defiantly.

It was bad enough he had to share a bedroom with JD and Vin, whom he now knew _didn't_ like him, and it was bad enough that the sheriff had confiscated his playing cards—not to mention his winnings from the other night—but to force to actually dress in _plain_ clothes and do menial labor was just too much for the little gambler to take.

Chris shrugged. "Then I turn you across my knee and give your rear a good blisterin'," he told him, sternly, "you _still_ put on the clothes and head out to the barn—only you have a very sore backside to take with you. It don't really matter much to me, Lil'Bit, but I'm sure it would to that lily-white hide of yours."

Ezra gulped, hearing the steel behind the man's words. He'd never received a spanking in his life and he had no intention of getting one now. "Fine," he said, huffing. "I'll wear the clothes."

Chris smirked. "Good," he said, "now get to it while I get breakfast started. JD and Vin have been up and dressed for nearly an hour now."

He probably shouldn't have allowed the boy to sleep longer than his new bunk mates, but he had figured that Ezra was going to have a hard enough time adjusting to ranch life without starting off on a bad foot the first day, so he'd let him sleep a little longer. Now, however, he saw that he was just going to have to be firm with the kid.

Ezra looked at the clothes with distain, but did go ahead and put them on.

_If Maude saw me like this,_ he thought to himself, _she have a fit!_

Of course, it was still probably a lot better than what they gave her to wear in prison.

Sighing, he headed out of the room he now shared with the two younger boys. Thankfully, the sheriff had the foresight to build them bunk beds so that Ezra had a bed to himself and didn't have to share.

He found Chris, JD, and Vin in the kitchen. The two other boys were sitting at the table while the sheriff dished out scrambled eggs onto four plates. Buck, whom he learned had a room at the ranch too, was in town; which he preferred seeing as how all of his 'ladies' were there.

"See there," Chris said, encouragingly, "they don't look too bad on ya."

Ezra wrinkled his nose, but didn't say anything. "May have just have some coffee, Sir?" he asked, taking a seat at the table.

"Coffee at yer age, son, is liable to stunt yer growth," Chris told him, teasing. "You boys get milk. Besides, yer gonna need yer energy for muckin' out the barn."

Ezra sighed as a plate containing eggs and toast was sat in front of him. Remembering it was impolite not to eat something without having a good reason for refusing it, he picked up his fork and started eating it just like JD and Vin.

Chris sat down also, after pouring himself a cup of coffee, and started eating.

They ate mostly in silence, and when they were finished the sheriff instructed the boys, "All right, Vin washes, JD rinses, and Ezra dries."

Ezra blinked. "I don't understand," he told him, honestly.

Vin snorted and JD giggled. "We're washin' dishes," the younger of the two other boys told him. "Ain't ya ever washed dishes before, Ez?"

"It's Ezra," the little gambler said, "and no, Master Dunne, I have not."

"Well," Chris told him, grinning, "now's as good a time as any to learn. 'Sides, it ain't that hard, all you do is wipe the dish dry when JD hands it to you."

Ezra nodded, following the others to the sink. He sighed again.

Chris almost sighed himself. _I've sure got my work cut out with this one,_ he thought. JD and Vin hadn't ever been raised on a ranch before coming to him, either, but both had come from dirt poor families and had adjusted easily.

Ezra had been raised to be think of himself as a gentleman and gentleman didn't do dishes…or any other work that would get their hands dirty.

_Well, their gonna get dirty now…whether he likes it or not._

The dishes were done soon enough, Ezra figured things out quickly enough, and Chris got up from the table.

"All right, boys," he said, "me and Ezra's gonna head out to the barn so I can show him what to do out there. You two get started dustin' and sweepin', alright?"

"Yes, sir," Vin answered, "we will."

"After we get the dustin' and sweepin' done, Pa," JD asked, "can we get the bat and ball?"

Chris had whistled them a fine baseball bat, and Buck had bought them a rather nice glove to use, but they had been busy in town so much that they hadn't really had a chance to try either out yet.

"Sure, Lil'Britches," the sheriff answered, "but you'd best make sure you do a good job first. Otherwise you'll have to do the dustin' and sweepin' all over again."

"We will," the two boys promised, smiling.

Chris nodded, knowing they would. They were good boys.

"C'mon, Ezra," he told the older boy, patting him on the back, "let's go get to muckin'."

Ezra wrinkled his nose, but followed the man out the door and out to the barn.

"I bet he gets it all over him," JD said, grinning, "just like I did first time I mucked out the barn. You think he will, Vin?"

Vin shrugged. "I reckon so," he said. "He probably won't know which part of the pitch fork to hold."

_Seein' how he ain't ever done a lick of honest work in his life_.

He didn't really like the fact that their father was going to have to spend so much time with the older boy, showing him what to do on the ranch. He didn't like it one bit, just like he didn't like having to share a room with the little gambler, either.

JD grinned. "It'd be funny if he stuck Pa in the rear with it," he said, giggling.

"I bet Pap wouldn't think it was funny," Vin told him, though he did think it would be funny to see their father running around the barn grabbing his behind and howling.

He sighed. "C'mon, JD," he told his little brother, "you get to dustin' and I'll get to sweepin'."

"Ah," JD groaned, "I hate dustin'!"

"Well, I don't much like sweepin'," Vin reminded him, "but this way we're sure not to miss nothin'."

"Why's that?" JD asked, wondering at his brother's logic.

Vin smirked. "Cuz," he told him, "we'll make sure we get it right the first time so's we don't have t do it again."

JD smiled. "Good idea," he said. "C'mon, let's get to it. I want first crack with the bat."

Vin nodded. "Well, I want first crack at the mitt," he told him, "so I guess that's all right."

Then, the two brothers set about getting their chores done.

Out in the barn, Chris showed Ezra had to take the shovel, scoop up some manure, and toss it out the back door of the barn onto the compost heap they had back there.

"That s perhaps the most disgusting thing I have ever seen," Ezra said, disgusted.

Chris chuckled. "I reckon so," he said, "but it's got to be done. It's bad for the horses to step in it."

"I wonder why," Ezra said, sarcastically, waving his hand in front of his nose at the stench.

Chris smirked. "The smell don't bother the horses none, son," he told him, "but it sure don't do 'em no good walkin' around in it. It messes up their hooves after a while, wears 'em down. It'd be like a pair of shoes rubbin' blisters on yer feet."

"Oh," Ezra said, understanding.

Chris nodded, glad to see the boy was actually paying attention. "After you muck out the stall," he instructed, "you take the pitch fork and get some fresh hay. Then ya dump it in the stall so that the horses will have a warm, soft place to bed down for the night." He demonstrated this as he talked, so that the boy would understand what to do.

Ezra watched, not really wanting to, but still he watched and listened. It seemed simple enough, even if it was disgusting.

Chris finished with the stall he was doing and handed the boy the shovel. "Now you try?" he told him, pointing to the stall beside it.

Ezra sighed, again, as he took the shovel and doing just as the sheriff had done scooped up a pile of manure. It took all his effort not to allow his breakfast to come back up, but he managed to dump the disgusting stuff onto the compost heap and come back for more. He had soon cleaned out the stall and then got the pitchfork to put fresh hay into the stall for the horses.

Chris nodded, approving. "There you go," he said, grinning. "Now, just do the rest of the stalls just like that one, and then take that broom there in the corner and sweep out the barn. I'm gonna be fixin' that loose board on the porch there so after yer done come get me."

Ezra nodded. "Very well, Sheriff," he said, solemnly.

"You know you don't have to keep calling me "Sheriff", Ezra," he told him, "or "Sir", even. As long as yer bein' respectful I don't mind ya callin' me by my name."

"Thank you, Sheriff," the little gambler told him, "but I believe I will stick to "Sir" and "Sheriff" as they are your titles."

Chris sighed. "All right, son," he told him, patting him on the shoulder, "go ahead and get started."

Ezra watched him go. "I'm not your son," he whispered to the man's back.

_I'm nobody's son now,_ he thought as he started to muck out the next stall. He felt tears well up in his eyes, but he quickly brushed them aside. He had work to do, so he had to get started.

It took him nearly an hour, but he managed to do everything he was supposed to do in the barn. By the time he was finished, he was hot, sweaty, and completely filthy. He didn't even want to think about what was in his hair or on his face at the moment.

Putting the shovel, pitchfork, and broom back in the places Chris had gotten them from he exited the barn and went in search of the sheriff.

Just as he stepped out of the barn door, however, a baseball—or a rather worn out ball that _used_ to be one—rolled and hit is foot.

"Nice hit, Vin," JD called out, running after the ball his brother had just hit.

Ezra bent down and looked in the direction of the other two boys. They had obviously finished their chores rather quickly and gone on to play with the bat and ball they had mentioned earlier.

"Hey, Ez," JD said, smiling, "me and Vin are playin' ball. You want ta play, too."

Ezra looked at Vin, saw the glare sent his way, and shook his head. "No thank you, Master Dunne," he told the younger boy, handing him the ball, "but I would rather not."

He then turned and headed toward the house in search of Chris.

JD watched him go, wondering why he didn't want to play. "I wonder why he didn't want to play, Vin?" he asked his brother after running back over for his turn to bat.

Vin shrugged. "Reckon he just didn't want to play," he said, though he knew _he_ had been the cause for the older boy's refusal. He felt a bit guilty, because for just a moment it looked as if the other boy really did want to join them.

Ezra brushed off his hurt feelings, or rather he buried them beneath the same walls he did everything else. _You don't have time to play games,_ he told himself. _The Sheriff is allowing you to stay only as long as you earn your keep._

This thought firmly in mind, he headed around to the back porch to find Chris hammering the loose board back into place, or rather hammering a new board he'd cut to fit because the other had been plain rotted out.

"I've completed my task in the barn, Sheriff," he told the man.

Chris looked up, and grinned at the boy's sweaty appearance. "You must have worked real hard," he said, standing up and working the kinks out of his back, "from the looks of ya."

He reached out removed some hay from the boy's hair. He chuckled. "JD looked the exact same way the first time he mucked out the barn," he told him, "only he was covered in a lot more crap than you."

Ezra wrinkled his nose. "I suppose," he said, "that is one comforting thought."

Chris rolled his eyes. If it was one thing he was determined to do, it was to get the kid to start talking like a normal kid and not like such a prissy little blue-blood.

"C'mon," he said, "let's go over to the corral."

Ezra followed him, wondering what chore he could possibly have for him near the pen they kept the horses—when they weren't roaming, that is.

Chris hopped up onto the fence post and patted it for him to do the same. It took him a moment, but managed to do it.

"See those?" the sheriff asked, pointing to where some half grown horses were grouped together.

"Yes, Sir," Ezra answered him, wondering what was so important about them.

"The one black one with the star and socks is JD's," Chris told him. "He's called Pony. The reddish-brown one belongs to Vin, and she's called Lady. I figured you could have the palomino."

Ezra blinked, glancing at the beautiful young blonde stallion. "I don't understand," he said, "what do you mean?"

Chris grinned at him. "You can't live on a horse ranch without havin' yer own horse, Ezra," he told him, "so I'm givin' him to you—just like I gave JD and Vin theirs."

"Won't they mind?" Ezra asked, figuring Vin certainly wouldn't appreciate his father giving him anything, especially something as valuable as a horse.

"Why should they?" Chris asked him, shrugging. "They've got their own already."

Ezra nodded. "I don't have any money, sir," he told him, "how am I to pay for him?"

Chris shook his head.

_If I could my hands on his mama right now, _he thought, _I'd horsewhip her for teaching him that everything was about money!_

"I wasn't expectin' ya to pay me, Ezra," he told him, firmly. "I'm givin' him to ya."

Ezra shook his head. "I don't except charity, Sheriff," he told him, stubbornly.

Chris' nostrils flared. "It ain't charity," he told him, sternly, "but if ya want think of it this way…yer gonna need a good horse otherwise ya won't be able to do some of the stuff that yer gonna have to do livin' here so it's really a way of me makin' sure yer gonna be able to pull yer own weight…"

_Even though I don't give a damn if ya pull yer weight or not, this is your home now._

He wished he could get the boy to see that, but figured it was going to take time.

Ezra nodded. Being given something because it granted the giver something in return was something he easily understand, so he nodded. "All right, sir," he told him, "I promise I'll take care of him."

Chris nodded. "I wouldn't give him to ya if I thought you wouldn't," he told the boy, gently. "C'mon, I'll show you how to groom 'im."

He hopped over the side of the fence and started for the young palomino.

Ezra followed, and even though he knew it was just a loan, he couldn't help but smile.

For a little while, at least, he would have his very own horse.

_I think I'll call him Ace._

TBC…


	13. Learning To Get Along, The Hard Way

**Magnificent Seven**

"**Lil' Ones"**

**Summary****: In this Old West Alternate Universe: JD Dunne is seven, Vin Tanner is eight, and Ezra Standish is nine. All three wind up in Four Corners and all three end up in the care of Chris Larabee, who is the town's sheriff. Buck Wilmington is his deputy, Josiah Sanchez is the town's preacher, and Nathan Jackson is the town's doctor.**

**Author's Note:** **I have recently found the M7 "little" universe and absolutely loved it, for the most part. I especially loved the "little" Ezra stories. I must admit I have not actually seen the show, but seeing as how this **_**is **_**an AU story that wouldn't (or shouldn't, anyway) matter. I know enough about the characters to make it work–I hope… This will be a sort of blending of the "Little Britches" universe and the "Little Ezra" universe—with my own twist, of course ;) If you like "kid fics" I'd suggest reading these. They are great.**

**Warning:**** Spanking of minors. (Naturally, since this **_**is**_** the Old West.)**

_**Disclaimer:**_ **I don't own these characters. I just wrote this story for fun. Enjoy.**

**Chapter 13: Learning To Get Along…The Hard Way**

Two more weeks passed.

Chris was pleased at how well Ezra had adapted to life on the ranch.

He still grumbled and groaned about the clothes, the food, and the chores but he could the boy really didn't mean it. For the first time in his life, he was living out of his mother's shadow, away from her influence, and was able to just be himself.

True, he was no closer to breaking down the boy's emotional barriers or get him to accept him as even but a jailer, but he was getting there.

Unfortunately, things between the little gambler and Vin were no better and he feared that it would come to blows between them and he didn't know what to do about it.

Bucks' advice was to, "Just let 'em duke it out."

Josiah's was to, "Take each aside first, discuss how they're feeling, and then talk to them together."

Nathan's had been simple. "Boys get jealous, Chris. They'll get past it, they always do."

With these three oh-so-wise councilors providing him with guidance, was it any wonder he didn't know in which direction to go?

Chris sighed. _Why can't they both be cheerful and happy like JD?_

The youngest of the three wasn't phased in the least by the tension between the older two, or rather he didn't pay any attention to it. He was simply thrilled, after having been an only child his whole life, to have not just one but _two_ pseudo-siblings to play with.

Of course, each time he tried to get Ezra to play with him and Vin the request was always met with a negative…which hurt JD to no end…but he still kept trying just the same.

Chris shook his head again. _What am I gonna do?_

Ezra, mean while, was enjoying the fact the fact he had—for the first time—managed to finish his chores early. It had taken him two long, grueling weeks but he had managed to learn to muck out the barn, wash dishes, dust and sweet, and groom Ace without leaving himself a filthy, sweaty mess.

Yes, he still got dirty and sweaty, but not as much as before.

He had decided to sit underneath a tree and read. He had been pleasantly surprised at the books Chris kept, and Buck had told him they had actually belonged to the man's late wife—who'd been a school teacher—and she had read them to their son at night.

The fact that the sheriff had had a family and lost it explained a lot about him taking in two orphans to raise as his own. It also proved that the man was a good man, not the kind of men his mother had always thought as "good" because they were wealthy, but the truly good hearted type who would have given you the shirt off back if you needed it.

It seemed Chris Larabee was truly a man any boy would be proud to call his father.

_Any boy,_ he thought as he gazed up at the pure blue sky that seemed to exist only in Texas, _but me._

He felt at longing tug at his heart then, but quickly surprised it. Chris had offered him his place here to keep him from going to the orphanage. He hoped to "reform" him from his 'less than savory' ways. That was all, and he knew it.

The sound of something hitting wood was heard and then something smacked his hand, causing him to drop his book in surprise.

"Oh, Ez," JD said, running up after the ball, "we're sorry! Are ya all right?"

Ezra looked up. No matter how many times he had corrected JD, the younger boy still insisted on referring to him as "Ez".

Getting up, he dusted off his denim breeches and handed him the ball. "I am quite well, Master Dunne," he told him, "here you go."

JD sighed. "Ez," he said, "you can just call me JD and I wish you'd play with us. Just once, please?"

Ezra heard the longing in the other boy's voice and he had—without them noticing him, of course—watched quite often as the two younger boys played baseball together.

_I suppose,_ he thought, _it wouldn't hurt just to play with them. Just to humor him, of course._

"Very well, M—uh-JD," he said, forcing a smile on his face, "I will play with you this once."

JD smiled brightly. Success at last! "Great," he said, "c'mon, I'll let you have my turn with the bat!"

Ezra didn't even have time to reply before his hand was grabbed and he was being dragged toward Vin, who stood waiting for his brother to return with the ball.

"What's he doin', JD?" the other boy asked his brother.

"Ez is gonna play with us," JD informed him, happily. "I told him he could have my turn with the bat."

Vin glanced at Ezra. "You ever play baseball before?" he asked, the tone of his voice saying he didn't believe it.

"I have not played often, Master Tanner," Ezra told the boy, crossing his arms, "but I have seen enough to know what to do."

Vin snorted. "This I gotta see," he said, handing him the bat. "JD, you pitch. I'll run after the ball—_if_ he hits it."

Ezra glared at the other boy. Things between them hadn't been going well, and they had—except at night when they had no choice but to share a room—avoided each other as much as possible.

_I'll show you,_ Ezra thought determined and hefted the bat onto his shoulder.

"Very well, JD," he told the younger boy, "whenever you are ready."

"Great," JD said, and ran to the place they had marked as the pitcher's mound. "He it comes."

Ezra lifted the bat into position, tightened his grip, and when JD let the ball fly swung with all his might. The ball connected with the bat…

He smiled as he heard the sound it made, but quickly lost it when he watched as the ball, instead of going up as it was supposed, sailed straight ahead and hit JD squarely in the face.

The boy grabbed his nose and sank to the ground. Both Vin and Ezra raced forward, the younger boy getting to him first.

Ezra was horrified. "Is he all right?" he asked, worriedly.

Vin glared at him. "You do that on purpose," he growled at him, angrily.

Ezra stepped back, his concern quickly turning to anger. "I did no such thing," he growled back. "I did not mean for the ball to hit him!"

Vin snorted. "Yeah, right," he said, and turned back to his brother.

This was too much for Ezra, who grabbed a hold of his shoulder. "Take back what you said this instant, sir," he said, wanting an apology.

Vin shook his head. "Make me," he dared, smirking. He obviously didn't believe the little gambler would do anything.

_He'll be too scared to get dirty, _he thought to himself.

Ezra was angry. The younger boy had no right to accuse him like that. He wanted an apology and he was going to get one.

The fact that they had both apparently forgotten about JD, whose nose was bleeding, didn't cross either of their minds.

Ezra stepped closer. "I said," he growled, "take it back."

Vin stepped closer. "I said," he growled back, "make me."

Ezra had never participated in a brawl before, but he had seen them often enough when he played poker to know one usually started by swinging his fist. So, he did.

Vin ducked, and then tackled the older boy. Soon, they were rolling around on the ground trying to get in blows.

"Stop it," JD cried, blood pouring from his nose, "stop it!"

His cries and the sounds of fighting reached Chris' ears and he came running. He took one look at the situation, and his temper went through the roof.

"All right," he growled, reaching down and hauling both boys to their feet in one yank, "that's enough!"

Ezra and Vin, both sporting bloody lips and dirt stained clothes, both looked rather surprised to see him.

"What the hell is goin' on here?!" he growled, in a voice that promised dire consequences if someone didn't answer him.

Vin pointed an accusing at Ezra. "He hit JD with the ball!"

"It was an accident," Ezra defended himself. "I didn't mean to hit him, and _he_ dared to accuse me of doing it on purpose."

Chris released them. "Stay put," he ordered, sternly. He then walked over to check on JD.

"Hey, Lil'Britches," he said, "let Pa see." He examined the boy's nose, which he had managed to stop bleeding but was now quite swollen.

"Wasn't Ez's fault, Pa," he told him. "Was an accident, I promise."

Chris nodded. "Don't you worry about it, son," he told him, scooping the boy up into his arms. "First things first, let's get some ice on that honker of yours." He turned to the two boys.

"You two," he growled, "go to your room. I'll be in to talk to you in a minute."

Glaring at each other, the two angry boys followed him inside and then went into their room. Each thrust himself onto his bed and pointedly ignored the other.

Chris cleaned up the blood on JD's face and then wrapped a chunk of ice from the ice chest in a towel. "Here ya go, Lil'Britches," he said, "you hold this on that there honker."

"It's cold, Pa," JD complained, wincing when the make-shift ice pack was placed on his sore nose.

"I know," Chris told him, "but it's gotta be to take down the swellin'. Okay?"

JD nodded, obediently holding the ice pack in place. "Don't be mad at Ezra, Pa," he pleaded. "He didn't mean to."

Chris grinned, and ruffled his hair. "You don't go worrying about Ezra," he told him, picking up up once more. "Leave that to me." He then carrying the boy into his bedroom and laid him down on his bed.

"You just lay there and rest 'til your honker feels better," he told him, firmly. "I'm gonna go talk to your brothers."

"Brothers?" JD asked, his eyes a light. "Does that mean Ezra, too, Pa?"

Chris chuckled, not really realizing what he'd said until just then. "That's right, JD," he told him, "as far as I'm concerned Ezra's your brother now just as much as Vin. I'm just havin' a little trouble convincin' him of it."

"Why, Pa?" JD wanted to know. "Don't he like it here?"

Chris sighed. "I'm sure he does, Lil'Britches," he said, "it's just that Ezra's mama wasn't much of a mama to him so he's been on his own for a while. It's hard to see yerself as part of a family if ya've been by yerself for so long."

"Oh," JD said, clearly not understanding but pretending he did. "We'll jus' have ta' show 'em, won't we Pa?"

Chris chuckled, bending down to kiss his youngest son's forehead. "Yeah, Lil' Britches," he told, "we'll have to show him what being in a family is really like. Now, you close them eyes and try not to think how sore that honker of yours is."

_One down, _he thought as he made his way towards the room the boys all shared, _two to go._

He entered to find Ezra laying on his bed, reading. Vin, who had claimed the top bunk for himself, just lay looking up at the ceiling. It was clear neither boy was going to admit they had been wrong.

_Shoulda known this was gonna happen,_ he thought to himself, shaking his head.

"Ezra, Vin," he spoke, sternly, "look at me."

The two boys sat up, swung there legs off their beds and looked at him. "I'm mighty disappointed in both of you," he told them, sternly. "You two are older than JD, and instead of fightin' with each other you shoulda came and got me."

Vin looked down, clearly covering up the fact there were tears in his eyes. He hated when his pap said that dreaded word "disappointed", and he knew he was probably wrong about Ezra hitting JD on purpose which made him feel even worse.

"I'm sorry, Pap," he said, sincerely. "Is JD all right?"

"He'll live," Chris told him, crossing his arms. He looked at Ezra expectantly.

However, instead of remorse or sorrow, his stern gaze was met by an equally stern one.

"I will not be called a liar," he said, firmly, "and I will not be accused of something I did not do. I demand an apology."

Vin stared at him, wide-eyed. Noboby talked to pap that way. No body!

Chris really wasn't that surprised, and he really couldn't blame the kid for being upset.

"Ezra," he said, "in this house you do not raise yer voice at me, son, and you certainly don't tell me what to do."

Ezra deflated a bit, but still glared defiantly. "I didn't do it on purpose," he said, his voice cracking a bit. "It was an accident."

"I know it was, son," Chris told him, "and yer right. Vin, ya do owe him an apology for accusin' him like that."

Vin gulped. "I-I'm sorry, Ezra," he told him, sounding sincere.

Ezra felt his gust twist. Ah, why had the younger boy given in so quickly. Now, _he_ was the one to feel guilty.

"Apology accepted," he said, quietly.

Chris nodded. "You two are gonna have ta get along," he told them, firmly, "and ya might as well start now. For the rest of the day, you two are stayin' here. No playin', no readin', just sittin' and talkin'."

Vin's eyes widened at that. He would much rather take a trip out to the barn than be cooped in his room all day. "F-For how long, Pap?" he asked, not liking this at all.

"At least 'til supper time," Chris said, firmly, "maybe 'til bedtime if you two don't behave."

Vin and Ezra looked at each other. It was just now noon. Supper time was a _long_ ways off, and bedtime even longer…

"I mean it, boys," Chris told them, sternly, "you two better be nice ta each other from now on, or they're gonna be hell to pay." With that, he turned and exited the room.

_There,_ he thought, _I've let 'em duke it out. Now their gonna sit and talk, even if it kills 'em._

He just hopped his solution to he problem worked, otherwise he knew he was gonna have to start wearing out some backsides if it worsened.

_Maybe I shoulda went on and wore out their backsides first, _he thought but then decided against that.

He hated havin' to result to spankin', even though he'd do it if the boys deserved it, and he was still tryin' to get Ezra to accept his place there. Hoping against hope the two boys would resolve their differences, he checked on JD—finding him fast asleep—and then headed back out to continue repairing the barn door.

Ezra and Vin weren't the only ones hoping supper time came quickly.

The boys, once he was gone, continued to stare at each other silently.

"So," Vin huffed, dropping down off his bunk and sitting Indian style on the floor, "what do we do now?"

Ezra shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine, Master Tanner," he said, and then because he felt awkward looking down at the other boy he dropped down into the floor also.

Vin wrinkled his nose. "Can't ya just call me Vin like everybody else?" he asked. "Why do ya talk like that anyhow?"

Ezra shrugged. "It is how I have always spoken," he explained. "Maude taught me I had to speak, dress, and behave just like a gentleman."

Vin snorted. "If getting' gussied up and talkin' funny makes ya a gent," he said, "I'd much rather be a regular joe any ole day."

Ezra smiled. "That sounds like something Deputy Wilmington would say," he told him.

Vin smiked. "Where da ya think I heard it? he asked. "Miz Inez told him he needed to learn to be a gentleman, and he told her that."

"What did she say?" Ezra asked. The pretty saloon owner loved to banter with deputy, he noticed, and he secretly thought she really did care for her (and he her) but both were too stubborn to admit it.

"She told him," Vin said, "that he wasn't even a regular joe cuz regular joes took baths regularly."

Ezra chuckled. "I'd have loved to seen his face," he said, laughing at the image of an indignant Buck in his mind.

"It was so funny!" Vin told him. "Uncle Buck puffed himself up like he was really about to say somethin', but then he just took a whiff of himself and said, "Huh, I don't think I smell _that _bad."

The two boys laughed even harder.

"Well," Ezra said, "what do you know, Vin? I do believe we're actually getting along."

Vin nodded. "Maybe you ain't as bad as I thought you was," he admitted, "and I am sorry for accusin' you of hurtin' JD. I know you wouldn't really."

Ezra nodded. "He can drive me crazy at times," he admitted, "but I like him well enough despite his endless chatter."

Vin snorted. "Tell me about it," he said, feigning annoyance. "He could talk the ears off a horse, and he doesn't even shut up in his sleep!"

"Really?" Ezra asked. "I have never heard him talking at night?"

"That's cuz yer across the room," Vin told him, "and I'm right above him. I'd stuff somethin' in his mouth if I didn't think Pap would have a fit about it."

"He probably doesn't do it on purpose," Ezra said, shrugging.

"Maybe," Vin agreed, "but it still dang annoyin'."

"Tell you what," Ezra offered, "if you can't sleep one night, I'll trade places with you so you don't have to listen."

"Really?" Vin asked. "That'd be swell, Ez."

"Not you too?" Ezra groaned. "Can't you all understand my name is "Ez-ra"."

"Course we do," Vin told him, "but Ez is easier and shorter, just like me and JD."

"I suppose," Ezra said, sighing, "I can tolerate it as long as no one else starts using it."

"Great," Vin said, smiling. "I hope JD is all right?"

Ezra could tell his concern for his younger brother was genuine. "I am certain he is," he told him. "Had he been seriously wounded, the sheriff would have insisted on taking him to Doctor Jackson."

Vin nodded, knowing he was right. He sighed. "It sure is a long time 'til supper," he complained. "I don't think we can talk _that_ long."

"Probably not," Ezra agreed, "but have another idea. Tell me, can you read."

Vin looked down. "No," he admitted, hesitantly. "Uncle Josiah is openin' a school soon, and Pap says we're gonna go but…well, I know I'm just gonna be the only there who can't read! Even JD can read!"

"Would you like me to teach you?" Ezra offered, hesitantly. He didn't want the other boy to think he was trying to be superior or anything.

"But Pap said we're not supposed to read or anythin'," Vin reminded him.

"We won't actually be reading," Ezra told him, getting the pad and pencil he had tucked under his bed, "you're not ready for that, yet. Before you can start reading, you first have to know your alphabet."

"I know that," Vin told him, "JD explained it to me."

Ezra wrote A, B, C down onto the piece of paper. "See here," he said, showing the younger boy what he had written. "These are the first three letters of the alphabet. See if you can copy them."

Vin nodded and did as he was told.

For the rest for afternoon, Ezra went through the entire alphabet showing Vin how to write them and telling him about each letter.

At supper time, Chris was more than a little surprised to find them sitting close together with their head bent over the note pad.

"What three letters are those?" Ezra was asking Vin pointing to the X, Y, and the Z.

"X, Y, Z," Vin told him, smiling brightly.

Ezra nodded. "Good job," he told him, "now you know how to recognize every letter of the alphabet. You can start forming words next, and after that learning to sound the words out."

"Really?" Vin asked him. "So, you think I'll be readin' by the time Uncle Jo gets the school goin'?"

Ezra nodded. "Not only that, Vin," he told him, "but I bet you two to one odds that your one of the best readers there."

"Wow," Vin exclaimed. "Thanks, Ez. Thanks a lot." He then gave the older boy a hug.

Ezra hadn't been expecting it, but he returned it the best he could. "You're welcome, Vin," he told him.

"Well now," Chris said, gaining their attention, "this is more like it."

Both boys hopped up. "Guess what, Pap?" Vin told him. "Ez is teachin' me to read so that I'll be ready to start school when Uncle Jo gets it goin'!"

"That's great, Vin," he told him, smiling. "Thank you, Ezra. I've been meanin' to teach him, but kept getting' sidetracked."

Ezra blushed. "You're welcome, Sheriff," he said," but it was really just something to pass the time." He glanced

Chris grinned. He didn't buy it for a second. The little gambler had been enjoying himself as much a Vin was, he was sure of it. It seemed they had managed to settle their differences quite nicely.

"You two ready for supper?" he asked them, knowingly.

"Yes, Sir," they answered, and their stomachs rumbled confirming it.

"Well then," Chris said, "I'd best get to makin' it. Ezra, you come help me get the table set and Vin go get JD up. I'm sure he's hungry to."

"All right, Pap," Vin said, and rushed to get his younger brother up.

Chris placed a hand on Ezra shoulder. "You did a good thing today, son," he told him, "and I'm mighty proud of you for it."

Ezra blinked up at him, feeling his heart flutter strangely. Why had the man's words made him feel that way?

Chris smiled and ruffled his hair. "C'mon," he said, "let's get the grub on the table. I've got three starvin' boys to feed."

Ezra nodded, and followed after him.

He didn't really understand what he was feeling, but he certainly didn't want it to go away.

TBC…


	14. Lil' Bit of Trouble

**Magnificent Seven**

"**Lil' Ones"**

**Summary****: In this Old West Alternate Universe: JD Dunne is seven, Vin Tanner is eight, and Ezra Standish is nine. All three wind up in Four Corners and all three end up in the care of Chris Larabee, who is the town's sheriff. Buck Wilmington is his deputy, Josiah Sanchez is the town's preacher, and Nathan Jackson is the town's doctor.**

**Author's Note:** **I have recently found the M7 "little" universe and absolutely loved it, for the most part. I especially loved the "little" Ezra stories. I must admit I have not actually seen the show, but seeing as how this **_**is **_**an AU story that wouldn't (or shouldn't, anyway) matter. I know enough about the characters to make it work–I hope… This will be a sort of blending of the "Little Britches" universe and the "Little Ezra" universe—with my own twist, of course ;) If you like "kid fics" I'd suggest reading these. They are great.**

**Warning:**** Spanking of minors. (Naturally, since this **_**is**_** the Old West.)**

_**Disclaimer:**_ **I don't own these characters. I just wrote this story for fun. Enjoy.**

**(Warning: Full spanking scene in this chapter. Don't like, don't read.)**

**Chapter 14: Lil' Bit of Trouble**

Adult mannerisms and adult speech aside, Ezra P. Standish had about as much curiosity as any other nine year old boy.

It would be that curiosity that would land him, Vin, and JD into a little bit of trouble…well, it would land them in them in a _little _trouble of the dangerous kind. It would land him in a _lot_ of trouble, with one Sheriff Chris Larabee.

A week after the "baseball brawl", as Buck had christened it when he and the others had been told about it to the utter embarrassment of the boys at Inez's the following day, Chris discovered that the fence surrounding the ranch had some broken fence posts in two different areas almost directly opposite of each other.

Buck, Josiah, and Nathan had agreed to come help fix them. He and Buck would fix one section while Josiah and Nathan the other.

To keep the three boys out from under foot, and to keep the bickering to a minimum—as they seemed to bicker more now that they got along than they did before—Chris gave them permission to go riding.

"Stay on our land," he instructed all three sternly, "and be back by lunch time."

The three had nodded, and then turned their mounts and headed out.

"Boy, oh boy," JD said ,excitedly, "this is the first time Pa has ever let us go ridin' without him or Uncle Buck!"

"Yeah," Vin said, "guess that means we're men now, 'stead of little kids."

Ezra grinned at that. He suspected that Chris and the others still saw all of them as "little kids" rather than "little men", but he didn't say anything. He had found that in the last week, he had come to enjoy the two other boys' company in a way that had surprised.

True, they still got on his nerves a lot but he enjoyed teaching Vin to read and playing baseball with JD—although now he made sure it was Vin that did the pitching when it was his turn to bat—and reading him one of the adventure stories the sheriff had allowed him to purchase in town one day.

He had never really been allowed to "play" and get dirty with Maude, but here on the ranch they were allowed to get as dirty as they wanted, even their clothes, and no one scolded them for it. True, the moment Chris discovered them he promptly ordered baths for all three, but Ezra didn't gripe and complain like the other two.

He liked taking baths.

He had also found that he was growing quite accustomed to the "rough" clothing he had to wear. He was only allowed to wear his "finery" on Sundays now, when the four—sometimes five, if Buck was in residence—of them rode into town for church.

It was Josiah, naturally, he mentioned to Chris that it would do them some good to interact with the other kids of the town, whom they would be attending school with come the fall.

Ezra didn't think he would be there to see the opening of the school, but at least he could leave Four Corners knowing he had prepared Vin most splendidly to do very well in school. The younger boy was very smart, and learned at an incredibly fast rate. Not as fast as him, of course, but it was still fast.

"Where should be go, Vin?" JD asked his older brother, pulling up on Pony's reins to halt the young horse a moment.

"Hmm," Vin said, doing the same with Lady, "how about we go toward the mine. Ez ain't ever seen that."

"Mine?" Ezra asked, stopping Ace. "What mine?"

"It's really neat, Ez," JD spoke up. "C'mon." He kicked his heels and sent his mount into a gallop, which the young horse simply loved.

Ezra and Vin smiled at each other and quickly followed, allowing their own mounts to have their bit of fun.

It took them about fifteen minutes to reach the spot where the entrance to the mine was.

"See, Ez," Vin said pointing. "Pap said it used to be a gold mine, but no body ever found any so they closed it up."

Ezra stared at the boarded up entrance, his curiosity peaked. "Let's go take a look," he suggested, eagerly.

JD and Vin looked at each other. "We can't," JD told him, sighing. "Pa said we're not ever to go up there or he'll skin us alive!"

"'Sides," Vin said, "it's across the fence, which means it's off ranch lands and Pap said _not_ to go off the ranch, remember?"

Ezra nodded. "All right," he said, "you two stay here then." He dismounted and started in the direction of the mine.

"Ez," Vin said, "Pap meant you, too!"

Ezra waved off his concern, his curiosity too peaked to be ignored. "The Sheriff won't ever know," he said, grinning. "I am only going to be a moment."

JD looked at Vin, worriedly. "We can' let 'im go in there alone," he told his brother, biting his lip.

Vin sighed. "C'mon," he told him, dismounting. The two of them quickly followed the little gambler.

Ezra smiled when they joined him. "Decided to join me?" he asked, smugly.

Vin snorted. "Only to haul yer out of there if there's trouble," he told him. "If Pap finds out, ya won't be smilin' so smugly then."

Ezra just chuckled. "C'mon, Master Tanner," he taunted, "where is your sense of adventure?"

"In my rear," Vin told him, bluntly, "which is what Pap'll strip clean off if he finds out 'bout this."

JD was looking more and more worried. He did not want to go have a 'talk' in the barn. The first time was more than enough for him, thank you very much. However, he continued to follow the two older boys up to the mine.

Ezra again waved off their concerns. "You both worry too much," he told them.

They had finally reached the mine's boarded up entrance. Ezra examined it, rubbing his chin. There had to be a way in? He tried a couple of the boards, and found them to be very secure.

_Hmm, this is tricky. Like trying to get a Royal Flush, but I've done that before. I can figure this out as well._

He moved up from one side of the entrance to the other, until at least he found a couple of boards that had come loose. "Aha," he said, smiling. "I think I've found our way in, gentleman. Come help me with these."

Vin and JD looked at each other worriedly, but then their own curiosity took over. They moved to either side of the little gambler, helping to tug the boards even looser.

Suddenly, both boards sprang loose. Ezra was sent rolling head over heels while JD and Vin simply fell back onto their butts. Unfortunately, the jarring of those two boards being freed had caused a chain reaction none of the boys had expected.

There was loud rumbling noise, and then all the boards began to sprang free and fall. The three boys all yelled, but neither JD nor Vin had time to get away before the entire all of boards came crashing down on them.

Dust filled the air for several moments, causing Ezra to have quite the coughing fit. When the dust began to settle, he managed to pick himself up from ground where he'd rolled. He looked up to find the other two and gasped in horror. JD and Vin lay underneath several of the boards. He rushed to them, finding both unconscious.

Tossing the boards off the younger two boys, he saw that JD was bleeding from a deep gash in his forehead and Vin leg was twisted in an odd way. He had a strong feeling that it was broken.

As he stared at them, unsure what he should do for a moment, all he could think about was, _What have I done!?_

His curiosity could have killed the two younger boys, and that would have devastated Chris.

_Get a hold of yourself, _he growled at himself, _don't just stand here moaning get them to Doctor Jackson!_

Quickly wiping away at the tears that had began to sting his eyes, Ezra quickly tore the sleeve off shirt and wrapped it around JD's head tightly. He had seen a doctor do that once when there hadn't been any bandages. It would do until he could get to Nathan.

He wasn't strong enough to pick either of the younger boys up, but he could drag them. He did so with JD, dragging him as gently and as quickly as he could back to the horses.

Thankfully, Pony could tell something was very wrong with his master and promptly knelt so that he could lay him over the saddle without any trouble. He patted the young horse, thanking him. He then raced back up to take care of Vin.

Vin's problem was a bit more tricky. A broken leg was a serious business, and there was no way he could drag the other boy with one—not without slinting the leg first to hold the broken bones into place. Looking around, there _were_ plenty of boards lying about after all, he found two of the smaller broken pieces of wood laid one on each side of the other boy's leg.

The little gambler than tore the other sleeve off his shirt and tied the two boards as tightly to the injured leg as possible. He could only hope it would hold, as he was acting purely on instinct and what little he had seen the few wealthy doctors Maude had been interested in do.

Once the make shift splint was in place, he slowly and carefully dragged Vin down to the horses. Lady, following Pony's example and also sensing something wrong, knelt down as well.

"Good girl," Ezra patted her on the neck. "Very good girl."

Grabbing the reins of both horses, he swung himself into Ace's saddle and turned his mount around. Then kicking his heels, he raced—as best he could without jarring the two injured boys or causing them to slip from there precarious perches—back towards the main part of the ranch.

"Doctor Jackon! Sheriff!" he called out when the four men, who had stopped to get a drink, when they came into sight. "Help!"

The four raced towards him as he pulled up on the reins.

"What happened!?" Chris demanded, as Buck and Josiah moved to get the other two boys down. Nathan was already checking them over.

Ezra couldn't find his voice, and simply shook his head. Chris glared at him, but then looked at him in concern. "Are you hurt, too?" he asked, more gently this time.

Still unable to speak, Ezra simply shook his head.

"Chris," Nathan said, urgently, "we need to get them into the house."

Chris nodded, and the three men raced toward the house. He then turned back to Ezra.

"Go with 'em, son," he told him, quietly. "Get yourself cleaned up. I'll see to the horses."

Ezra, his eyes wide, simply nodded. As he made his way towards the house, he knew his stay in Four Corners had just come to an end.

Chris took Pony, Lady, and Ace into the barn. As he unsaddled and then groomed their sweaty bodies, he couldn't help but be a bit angry.

_What the hell happened!? They were only going for a ride, damn it!_

Shaking his head in frustration, he finished with the horses and then headed inside to see about his boys.

"How are they?" he asked, coming into his room where they had laid both injured boys.

"Well," Nathan said, "JD's got a nasty cut in his head and Vin's got a busted leg. Both are gonna have plenty of scratches and bruises. It could have been much worse, but thanks to Ezra it wasn't."

"What do you mean?" he asked, his heart rate going back to normal now that he knew his boys would at least be all right.

"Well," Nathan said, "he bandaged JD's head to stop the bleeding and he made a splint for Vin's leg—true, it was a crude one and barely held in place—but without it the bones would have come through the skin and it would be much harder to set."

Chris nodded, understanding. He momentarily wondered where Ezra had learned to do those things, but brushed the thought aside as being unimportant at the moment. Right now they needed to find out how this had happened.

"Have they said what happened?" he asked the black man.

"JD's still out cold," Nathan said, "but Vin's awake. He won't say anything."

"Let me try," Chris said, and moved over to sit beside his 'middle' boy. "Hey there, Lil'Pard, how ya doin'?"

"Leg hurts, Pap," Vin whispered, a couple of tears leaking out of his eyes. "JD all right?"

"I know it hurts, son," Chris said, running his hand through the boy's messy hair, "and JD's gonna be just fine. Vin, how did this happen?"

Vin gulped, uncertainty in his eyes. Should he tell? Ezra would get into lots of trouble, wouldn't he? Pap might even send him away, and he didn't want that.

Chris saw the indecision and said, "Please, son, it'll be all right. Just tell Pap what happened."

"W-Wanted to show Ezra the m-mine," the boy whispered to him. "Didn't think there be no harm in just goin' and lookin'."

Chris nodded. "No, yer right," he agreed, "no harm in lookin'."

"W-We tried to tell 'im, Pap," the boy went on. "Told 'im we weren't supposed to go up there. T-Told me and JD to wait, b-but we couldn't let 'im go up there by 'imself, Pap. He coulda got hurt."

Chris nodded, understanding beginning to dawn on him. "Ezra went up to the mine," he said, "so you and JD went up there with him to keep him from getting hurt. Right?"

Vin nodded. Even though his adopted father didn't look angry, his eyes were as hard as steel at that moment. He nodded.

"Yeah," he said, "only he couldn't get the boards loose. Me and JD had to help 'im, and then _all_ boards fell down!"

"Why wasn't Ezra hurt like you and JD, son?" Chris asked, knowing he needed to get all the facts before deciding what he was going to do.

"W-When the boards came loose," Vin explained, "he got knocked a ways. Me and JD just landed on our rears and that was when…"

"The rest of the boards fell on top of you," Chris finished for him, having a pretty clear picture of what happened now.

Vin nodded. "P-Please, Pap," he pleaded with his adopted father, "don't make Ez go 'way or send 'im to the orphanage. He didn't mean for us to get hurt!"

"Shh, Lil'Pard," Chris soothed, gently, "it's okay. You just rest now and don't worry, Ezra ain't goin' anywhere."

_Except maybe out to the barn for a 'talk', _he thought as he continued to soothe the boy into sleep. The pain medicine Nathan had given him made him sleepy so that he drifted off shortly after that.

Chris stood up, and looked at the others. "Well, ain't this a pretty kettle of fish," he said, hooking his thumbs in his belt.

"What are you goin' to do?" Buck asked. "'Bout Ezra, I mean."

"Me and him are gonna have little talk," Chris said, a determined look on his face, "and then we're gonna take a little trip out to the barn."

The other three men looked at each other. "Chris," Josiah said, "please, be careful how you handle this. Ezra isn't like JD and Vin, and if what we know of his mother is true he probably has never received a spanking before in his life."

"I know that, Jo," Chris told him, "and I ain't just gonna go draggin' the boy out to the barn to lay into him with my belt. Like I said, we're gonna talk first. When we do go out there, he'll know exactly what's gonna happen and why. Please, stay with the boys." With that, he exited the room and headed for the boys' room.

He found Ezra, wearing one of his fancier shirts and breeches—without the jacket or tie, though—and he was busy putting his "finery" into his carpet bag. Chris heard quite clearly the sniffles and could see the tears glistening in the boys eyes.

_So, he's got the same idea as Vin,_ he thought sadly to himself_. He's expectin' to be hauled straight to the orphanage. Poor kid._

"Plainin' on skippin' town?" he asked, leaning against the door way.

The little gambler jumped, and looked toward him guiltily. "N-No, sir," he answered, truthfully. "I was just preparing."

Chris came into the room and sat down on the boys' bed, moving the carpet back out of the way. "Preparin' for what, Ezra?" he asked him, bluntly.

Ezra cast his eyes down at the floor, and muttered something under his breath.

Chris reached out and took him by the shoulders, and then pulled him in-between his legs.

"Preparin' for what, Ezra Phillip?" he asked again, this time more firmly. He lifted the boy's chin so that he was staring at him in the eye.

"To go to the orphanage," Ezra told him, his voice cracking a bit.

"Why would you think yer goin' there?" Chris asked next.

Ezra shrugged, not answering.

"When I ask you a question, Ezra Phillip," the sheriff told him, sternly, "I expect ananswer, young man."

"Because," Ezra told him, "I got JD and Vin hurt."

Chris nodded, proud of the boy for not trying to lie. "Because ya went up to the mine," he said, "and tried to get the boards loose. Right?"

Ezra shouldn't have been surprised that the man knew already, but he was. He just nodded. "Yes, sir," he answered, quietly.

"Did Vin and JD tell ya you weren't supposed to go up there?" he asked him, next.

"Yes, Sir," Ezra answered, "but I was just curious."

Chris nodded. "Still," he said, firmly, "they told ya I had said not to go up there, didn't they? _And _I seem to remember tellin' all three of you this morning not to go off the ranch."

"Yes, sir," Ezra said, quietly. "I'm sorry."

Chris nodded. "We'll take care of it in a minute, son," he told him, "but there's something you and me gotta get cleared up first."

Ezra's eyes widened. What now?

"I want you to listen and listen to me real good, Ezra Phillip Standish," Chris said, firmly. "I know you've been waitin' on the time when I'm gonna get tired of ya being here and send ya off to the orphanage and I'm here to tell you that ain't gonna happen. Ever. No matter what ya do, Ez, this is your home now and we're yer family."

"But," Ezra started to say, but the man put a hand over his mouth.

"Nope," Chris replied, sternly, "no buts about it, Lil'Bit. This…is…your…home…and…we…are…your…family. Got it?"

Ezra couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. He had just been the cause of this man's two beloved sons getting hurt and here he was telling him he wasn't ever going to send him away.

"But JD and Vin won't…" He started to say, but again that hand clamped over his mouth.

"Won't what?" Chris asked him. "Want you here, well I'll have you know that not more than five minutes ago Vin begged me not to send ya away. He and JD both like havin' ya around, Lil'Bit and they like havin' ya for a brother."

"Brother!?" Ezra squeaked out, his eyes widening more.

Chris nodded. "That's right," he told him, "as far as they are concerned you are they're brother, and as far as I'm concerned yer my son just the same as them."

"Y-Your son," Ezra repeated, unable to stop the tears that leaked out of his eyes.

Chris smiled, and wiped the tears away with his thumbs. "Yeah," he told him, "my son. I love ya, Ezra, just as much as I love JD and Vin. You three are my boys now, and no one is gonna take ya away from me. Nothin' any of do will ever make me change my mind, so you can just go ahead and get into all the trouble ya want."

Ezra grinned. "I think you may regret that offer," he said, teasingly.

Chris nodded. "I reckon yer right," he said, and then frowned, "but that brings us back to yer little misadventure today."

"Oh," Ezra said, gulping.

"You disobeyed me today, Ezra," the sheriff said, "not once, but twice. Didn't you?"

Ezra nodded. "Yes, sir," he admitted, cringing at the disappointment he heard behind the man's words.

"What has JD and Vin told ya about what I do when you all disobey me?" he asked him, raising an eyebrow.

Ezra gulped. "We go have a talk in the barn," he said, trembling a bit.

Chris tightened his grip on the boy's shoulders to steady him. "And that talk consists of…"

"A spanking," Ezra said, biting his lip.

Chris nodded. "You ever been spanked before, Lil' Bit?" he asked him, gently.

Ezra shook his head. "No, sir," he said, quietly.

"There ain't nothin' to be afraid of," Chris told him. "All I gonna do is turn across my knee and give your rear a few hard whacks with my hand. No _switch_, no _strap_, nothin' like that. You'll be a mite sore afterwards, and ya won't be able to sit without a pillow for a little while, but by bedtime you'll be as good as new. Understand?"

Ezra nodded. Feeling oddly comforted, even though he knew he was about to be punished.

Chris stood up. "All right then," he said, "let's go on out to the barn and get this over with."

Ezra followed him, not sure what he should be feeling at the moment. True, he was about to receive the very first spanking of his life so he should fell a bit of trepidation, but oddly he didn't.

What he had done today was wrong, and because he hadn't listened his new brothers could have been hurt or worse…

_Brothers,_ he thought to himself, _I have two brothers now!_

Glancing at Chris' back, he smiled. _I have a father now too!_

They entered the barn and Chris sat on a haystack. "C'mere, Ezra," he beckoned, speaking firmly yet gently.

Ezra came to him. _Now_, he was nervous.

Chris put his hands on his shoulders, feeling the slight trembling in them. "Not only was JD and Vin hurt today, Lil'Bit," he told him, "but you could just as easily have been hurt or worse, too."

Ezra nodded. "Yes, sir," he said. "I know."

Chris nodded. "Remember," he told him, "yer safe with me, Ezra. Always."

Ezra smiled, knowing he could truly believe that now.

Chris gently lowered the boy across his knee, trying to make this experience as frightening as possible. He raised his hand back, and brought it down hard across the upturned bottom.

_SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!_

Ezra gasped as those first five swats landed in rapid succession. He knew it was going to hurt, but that _hurt!_

_SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!_

Those next five left his rear end stinging all over. Of course, the material of his breeches wasn't as thick as his denim britches so they didn't offer very much protection.

_SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!_

His bottom was very sore now, it was very warm and tingly, and he felt tears start to slide down his cheeks.

"Five more, Lil'Bit," Chris told him, gently, "and it'll be over."

_SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!_

Those final swats delivered, he let the boy up off his lap and pulled him to him. He could feel the tension inside the boy as he was trying not to cry.

"Go ahead and let it out, Ezra," he whispered into the boy's ear. "I reckon if there's ever a good reason for a boy to have a good cry its right after a spankin'. Go on, son, let it out."

That seemed to open he floodgates, and the little boy began to not just cry but sob into his shoulder. He held him, rocked him, and whispered comforting words into his ear as he knew he boy was crying for more than just the spanking he'd received. He was crying out all the pent up emotions he'd held inside him for almost all of his young life, for the childhood that _almost_ had been stolen from him by his mother's greed and ambition.

Once he had cried all he could, he pulled back. A bit embarrassed now. "I'm sorry, Sheriff," he said, scrubbing at his face with his hands and sleeves. "I did not mean to get so emotional." He then reached back to rub his sore behind and winced.

Chris laughed, and then he laughed harder. To see such a childish from the boy in front of him made his heart glad and he couldn't help his chuckling.

"That's all right, Ez," he told him, pulling him into a bear hug, "you can go head and get all emotional whenever ya want to now."

Ezra returned the hug, a bit awkwardly. "Thank you, sir," he told him, blushing.

Chris looked at him and smiled. "Ezra," he said, gently, "if you could call me something other than 'Sir, "Sheriff", or "Chris", what would it be?"

Ezra looked at him puzzled. "I do not understand," he told him, still rubbing, "what else would I call you?"

"You know JD calls me "Pa" and Vin calls me "Pap"," Chris told him. "Well, if you could call me something like that, what would it be?"

Ezra thought a moment. "I guess," he said, "I would call you 'Papa'."

Chris smiled. _Pa. Pap. Papa._

"All right then, Mr. Standish," he told him, standing up and crossing his arms, "from now on I don't want to hear "Sheriff" or "Chris" and the only time I expect to hear "Sir" is when I'm askin' you a question. From now on, I only want to hear "Papa" come past those lips of yours."

Ezra gulped. "Really?" he asked. "You wouldn't mind?"

Chris chuckled and ruffled his hair. "No, Lil' Bit," he told him, kneeling down, "I wouldn't mind at all. I am your papa now, and nothing is gonna change that. I also want to tell you how extremely proud of you I am."

"You are?" Ezra asked, confused. "For what?"

Chris smiled. "For what you did for your brothers today," he told him. "Nate told me that if you hadn't bandaged JD's head or splinted Vin's leg they could have been hurt worse than they were."

"But it was my fault," Ezra told him, "they were hurt. I had to do something."

"You could have easily just left them there," Chris said, "or blamed what happened on them, but you didn't. You didn't panic, and you did what you needed to do to get them to Nathan. You acted just like a true big brother today, son, and I am _very_ proud of you for it."

"T-Thank you," Ezra said, his face lighting up like a firecracker on the Fourth of July, "Papa."

Chris felt his heart swell hearing that word from the boy for the first time, and knowing he now truly felt that way about him. He pulled him into another big bear hug.

"I love you, son," he whispered, then grinned, "even if ya are a Lil'Bit of trouble!"

Ezra laughed at that. "And right proud of it, too," he replied, cheekily.

Chris grinned and ruffled his hair. "C'mon," he said, placing a hand around the boy's shoulders. "Let's go see how those two hooligans you call brothers are doin'."

Ezra nodded, and together they walked back toward the house.

He didn't think he had ever been so happy…or so sore…in his entire life.

He had brother now. He had a papa now. He had a home now.

That almost made the spanking worth it.

Almost, but not quite.

_Ooh! Ouch!_

TBC…


	15. A Magnificent Seven

**Magnificent Seven**

"**Lil' Ones"**

**Summary****: In this Old West Alternate Universe: JD Dunne is seven, Vin Tanner is eight, and Ezra Standish is nine. All three wind up in Four Corners and all three end up in the care of Chris Larabee, who is the town's sheriff. Buck Wilmington is his deputy, Josiah Sanchez is the town's preacher, and Nathan Jackson is the town's doctor.**

**Author's Note:** **I have recently found the M7 "little" universe and absolutely loved it, for the most part. I especially loved the "little" Ezra stories. I must admit I have not actually seen the show, but seeing as how this **_**is **_**an AU story that wouldn't (or shouldn't, anyway) matter. I know enough about the characters to make it work–I hope… This will be a sort of blending of the "Little Britches" universe and the "Little Ezra" universe—with my own twist, of course ;) If you like "kid fics" I'd suggest reading these. They are great.**

**Warning:**** Spanking of minors. (Naturally, since this **_**is**_** the Old West.)**

_**Disclaimer:**_ **I don't own these characters. I just wrote this story for fun. Enjoy.**

**Chapter 15: A Magnificent Seven**

"Hey, Ez," Vin taunted his older brother, smiling, "I bet you a week of mucking out the stables that Lady can outrace Ace."

They had now lived together as a family for six months now, and today—on Chris' birthday—they, their father, and their uncles decided to go on an evening ride around the ranch.

Ezra grinned. "I will accept that bet, Master Tanner," he replied, smirking, "and I'll raise it to a week of mucking out the stables _and _a week of washing dishes."

Vin nodded. "Your own," he replied.

"Let's go then," Ezra said, and then kicked his heels spurring Ace into a gallop. Vin followed suite.

"Hey," JD yelled after them, digging into Pony, "wait for me!" He raced after his brothers.

Chris, Buck, Josiah, and Nathan all laughed as they watched the youngest of the three boys try to catch up with his speeding brothers.

"Those three are gonna keep us mighty busy," Buck said, slapping his knee, "even busier than the outlaws!"

"Amen to that," Nathan commented, grinning. "They've certainly given me more business lately than any of the kids—and all of you—put together."

"Would we have it any other way, Brothers?" Josiah asked, glancing at Chris.

The sheriff smiled as he watched his boys enjoying themselves.

"No, Brother Jo," he said, his heart feeling light as it had not in years, "I can't say I would."

"The only thing I can't figure out," Buck said, "is why they're the only ones havin' fun while we're all sittin' on our asses!" With that he let out a shrill whistle and kicked his heels to spur his mount into a gallop.

The other three men looked at each other a moment, smiled widely, and then firmly promptly followed.

So, the Big Ones followed after the Lil' Ones.

Truly, they were…a magnificent seven.

The End.

For Now…


End file.
